Sierra Foxtrot
by K.S. Reynard
Summary: (Near-future AU) When his team is killed in an incident that sparks an international war, Fox is forced to rebuild both his business and his life. Along the way, he cultivates new friendships, takes asinine jobs, deals with incompetent teammates, and dates a stripper, all while doggedly hunting down the people conspiring to overthrow Lylat's power structure. Sanity not included.
1. The Assignment

_AUTHOR'S NOTE(S): Hello, all. Welcome to this cesspool of insanity, excessive fanservice, inane humor, and a general lack of respect for reality and its laws thereof. There's also a plot in there somewhere, along with just about every Star Fox character and OC that has appeared in my various stories, including a salty asexual Renamon tsundere. In addition, there are possibly hundreds - I've lost count by now - of references to other media, among other things. _

_So, sit back, relax, and enjoy the ride._ _  
_

 _Oh - and a brief disclaimer:_ _any resemblance to current or recent events is almost certainly intentional._

* * *

 **Arc I: The Aquas Informant**

 _Part 1: The Assignment_

The sound of twin helicopter blades buffeted the air, pulsating and shaking the craft's interior. Fox held his eyes closed, not wanting to know the extent of his injuries resulting from a massive explosion that also claimed the lives of his teammates. Part of him held out hope that at least one of them had survived, but he knew better than to believe that anyone other than himself could have lived through the inferno that reduced a cutting-edge skyscraper to dust in mere seconds.

With his eyes shut, he listened to his surroundings. He heard the chopper's pilot and co-pilot conversing with each other at the front of the craft, although the tumultuous rumbling of the overhead rotors prevented him from hearing anything clearly. Closer to him, however, he noticed the sound of boots pacing the metal floor. For a moment, he opened his eyes and noticed a leopard wearing a dark blue Cornerian officer's uniform. He tried to close his eyes without the officer noticing, but he failed.

In under a second, the feline knelt next to Fox's medical gurney and prodded his arm. "I know you're awake, McCloud."

Fox groaned. "Yeah, but I wish I wasn't. What am I doing on an army chopper, anyway?"

"Someone had to evacuate you from the scene of the blast," the officer replied. "You may be a mercenary, but you were given your assignment from General Pepper himself, and we're honoring his request to treat you like one of our own. You're on this chopper because the general has scheduled a meeting with you and several other high ranking officials from the Cornerian Defense Force."

Attempting to sit up, Fox took a deep breath and shook his head. "Isn't it a bit soon for that? I'm not even sure I can walk."

"The doctors cleared you before the chopper left Northpoint Beach. You suffered a concussion and a few skin lacerations, but you'll be fine with a few days of rest."

"I definitely don't feel like I'm going to be fine," Fox groaned. "What happened at Northpoint, anyway? All I remember is that I was leading my squad out of the building, when it suddenly blew up for no reason. Now that I think of it, I'm having a hard time remembering why I was in Northpoint to begin with."

The feline officer stood up and braced himself on Fox's gurney as the helicopter shook. "I'll give you the short version. As you know, the tension between Corneria and some of the rebel factions in Fortuna has been getting worse over the course of the last year. Yesterday, it all came to a head near the border of the two countries along the coastline. You and your unit were sent into Northpoint after the Fortunan rebels detonated an EMP weapon in the city center and then attacked the city itself. The city defense was successful, but at great expense to our own troops. Now, about the building – I have no idea why that explosion happened. We're investigating the incident, but we don't know anything about it right now. You should just be grateful that you survived with only minor injuries. I'm sorry to say this, but the rest of your unit bit the dust. That includes your fiancée, Fara."

Fox's eyes widened. The thought of his squadmates raced to his mind, but Fara took priority over them. For a moment, he lay in silence, stunned and horrified at the news. Then, he rolled onto his left side and let out a quiet sob that he hoped the officer wouldn't notice. Wiping his eye with his shoulder, he returned to his resting position and asked him, "Did you recover the bodies?"

"We only found three of them. The other four are unaccounted for, but their positions at the time of the blast make their survival a virtual impossibility."

Fox sighed and clenched his teeth to avoid crying. "Dammit - I knew some of those guys for over seven years! Was...was Fara's body one of the ones you recovered?"

The feline gave him an uncertain look in response. "No, but we are all but certain that she..."

"Stop talking. I don't want to hear it."

The officer's words ceased, reducing the number of sounds to the duo of cacophonous rotors overhead. "I'm sorry, but sometimes we all have to hear things we don't like."

Fox's eyes could have shot out fire. "I said stop talking. How would you like it if you woke up to hear that your wife was dead and that some of your closest friends were blown to hell? Huh?"

The cat frowned and turned to the side. He wanted to shoot back at Fox, but in spite of his bruised ego, he knew that he had nothing useful to say to the wounded vulpine.

Noticing the officer's silence, Fox changed the subject of the conversation. "Do you know why General Pepper wants to talk to me specifically?"

"No, I don't. That information wasn't given to me. I'm sure you'll find out soon enough."

Fox sighed. "I was just wondering."

When the officer said nothing in return to him, Fox closed his eyes again, partially out of a desire to avoid having to converse with the feline and partially to disguise the tears that threatened to spill out of his eyes. Only two months ago had he proposed to Fara Phoenix; yet she had already been taken from him long before their wedding ceremony even reached the planning phase.

* * *

 _-_ § _-_

* * *

Twenty minutes later, the helicopter reached the boundaries of Kepler Air Force Base, the largest military installation in the entirety of the Cornerian continent. Peering through the tiny sliver of the front window that he could see, Fox laid eyes on the base's towering central structure – a monolithic monstrosity of a building covered in reflective, blastproof glass reflecting the most advanced construction methods available to the Republic of Corneria. An oversized landing pad on the roof awaited the chopper, which slowed its rotors and floated to a stop in the center of the black pad. The pounding of the overhead blades came to a slow decrescendo as the feline officer next to Fox helped him off his medical gurney.

He found himself dressed in the same clothing that he had worn during his failed mission, which gave him some consolation about the state of his injuries. His right leg flared up in pain as he set foot on the chopper's metal cargo floor, but he managed to walk out of the helicopter under his own power and climb down the large vehicle's left landing strut. Standing on the base's roof, he stared out at the metropolitan expanse that stretched as far as the eye could see. Gleaming skyscrapers punctured the crystalline blue skies, towering over the smaller buildings surrounding them. Fox recalled that Corneria City registered as the most vertical city on the planet Lylat. More than fifty million residents called the megacity their home, including Fox himself. As the feline officer led him towards a set of doors built into the side of the building at the edge of the landing pad, he thought about his own apartment, where he planned to go after his meeting with General Pepper.

Two canine guards stood on each side of the double doors ahead of him. When the officer escorting Fox neared them, they pushed the doors open and led their guests into the base itself. Clean, synthetic plastic surfaces made up the majority of the base's interior that looked tidier than any military base Fox had been acquainted with before. The building's outside wall was transparent in every way, allowing him to observe the grounds surrounding the base while feeling the safety of the reinforced synth-glass, engineered to provide the same amount of structural support as metal or rebar.

Fox and his escorting officer followed the two base guards to a blue-colored door on the left side of the hall. The two canines stepped aside and backed against the wall on opposite sides of the door, allowing the feline officer to pull it open and lead Fox inside. Compared to the light level in the naturally-lit hallway, the expansive boardroom Fox found himself in seemed oppressively dark. Given a moment, however, his eyes began to adjust to the dim lighting inside the room, which sported a white color scheme with blue accents reflecting the colors of the Cornerian flag. A massive, oval-shaped table sat in the center of the room, although only four people sat around it. At the head of the table near the back of the room, Fox recognized General Pepper's imposing hound-like figure, dressed in his almost-gaudy red and yellow ceremonial uniform. To his right sat an aged raven with steely eyes that stared at him with a commanding intensity as he moved towards the table. Across the table, a bodacious red-furred vixen with flowing, black hair reclined in her chair next to another vulpine, who sat next to General Pepper.

Fox stopped in surprise when he realized the identity of the two foxes on the left side of the table. The vixen, who wore a matte black catsuit outfitted with numerous storage pockets, looked badly out of place in the somewhat formal meeting room. She looked even more out of place when she laid eyes on Fox and blew him a kiss.

" _Scarlet,"_ he muttered to himself. A distant cousin of his, the blood red vixen matched him in terms of both age and stature and rivaled him as a freelance mercenary. Although the two stayed in contact in the present day, neither of them knew of each other's existence until they met during a controversial training program initiated by the Cornerian Army. The two interacted well and considered each other mutual friends, but Fox hesitated to take their relationship any farther than that on account of her faint blood relation to him and his engagement to the now-departed Fara Phoenix. Admittedly, the two were distant enough for a relationship to be considered acceptable, but he still felt awkward about the prospect.

The male fox seated next to Scarlet demanded his attention even more than Scarlet did. Dressed in a dark blue officer's uniform replete with a veritable plate of pins and medals, the vulpine pulled his aviator sunglasses from his face and placed them on the table in front of him.

"Dad?"

The older vulpine gazed at Fox and nodded with a sad smile that reflected his sorrow over his son's loss in the Northpoint catastrophe. "I heard what happened to you yesterday. Thank God you're alright. Looking back on some video footage from the scene, I know it's nothing short of a miracle that you're still alive."

Fox nodded grimly and shuffled towards a chair two seats down from the imposing raven seated next to General Pepper. As he dropped into the black faux leather seat, Pepper locked eyes with him and began the meeting. "Thank you for coming, Fox. I normally don't like dealing with mercenaries, but you're in another league compared to most of them. Your father raised you well." He glanced at James and continued, "Fox, the reason you are here is because I have a job that I wouldn't trust to anyone outside the upper echelons of the Cornerian Army. You, however, are the exception."

Fox looked back at Pepper in confusion. "Why don't you just assign military personnel to this 'job', then?"

"Because this job is multifaceted, requiring a variety of skills that most military personnel do not have at their disposal at once. Not only that, but it is also highly sensitive. We are in a dangerous spot politically, Fox. Assigning officially sanctioned Cornerian soldiers to this objective poses a grave danger to our weakening relationships with Macbeth and Titania. Their hostility to us has only increased over the past year; and all intelligence suggests that it may worsen over time.

He paused and cleared his throat. "Then, there is this issue with the East Fortuna rebels. We originally believed that they were nothing more than ideologically driven insurgents who posed little to no threat to the global state in general, but what happened at Northpoint yesterday proved us wrong. Simple insurgents do not have access to city-wide EMP devices. Not only that, but when we started cleaning up the city after the skirmish, we found Macbeth-built guns designed specifically for military use. No one in Fortuna could have come across those unless they had them shipped in from Macbeth itself. All evidence is pointing to the Macbeth military assisting the East Fortuna rebels. I, the Prime Minister, and the Joint Chiefs of Staff unanimously decided to launch a counter-attack on the rebel-held territory near the border of Fortuna and Corneria, which leaves very little room for other operations at the moment."

"I assume that's where I come in?" Fox asked, opening his hands.

"Indeed," Pepper replied. "As one of the few remaining graduates of the Advanced Soldier Training Program that took place twelve years ago, you are uniquely qualified for this task, along with Miss Scarlet over there. If my records are correct, she is also a graduate of the program."

Fox groaned. "Sir, I know where this is going. You probably want Scarlet to help me with this job of yours. Well, I know for a fact that she won't do it. I've repeatedly asked her to join my unit in the past, and she's refused my offer every time because she would rather do her own thing."

"Funny," said Pepper. "She agreed to help you long before you arrived here."

Fox gave Scarlet a bewildered look. In response, she simply winked and then turned her attention back to General Pepper as he continued, "We have an independent informant in the Aquas island group who has offered to provide you with his findings and his technological know-how. He's a bit clumsy and awkward, but he's the best person we could find who wasn't affiliated with any government or organization."

"What does he do, then? Is he some kind of hacker?" Fox asked.

"Not exactly, although that skill is certainly in his wheelhouse. He's a former member of a Katinan mercenary company known as Anthracite Security. He wouldn't say exactly why he was terminated, but his skills seemed to speak for themselves. Anyway, there are a few more details that I need to cover with you, but until you agree to the mission, I will go no further."

Fox looked at Scarlet out of the corner of his eye, then shifted his gaze to his father, who looked back and gave him a subtle nod. Returning his attention to General Pepper, he answered, "I'll do it. What do I need to take care of first?"

In response, Pepper allowed a faint smile to cross his muzzle. "I appreciate your willingness to cooperate with us, Fox. Your first task is to fly to Aquas to meet with the informant. Once you do, inform me of your progress, and I will update you on your next objective."

"Shouldn't you lay that out for me upfront instead of baiting me along step by step?" Fox protested.

"Under normal circumstances, yes, but this is a dynamic situation. Your mission can and will change depending on the circumstances of your surroundings. Both you and Scarlet have been trained to be prepared for nearly anything, which is why I'm trusting both of you with this. And of course, your fee has been approved."

Fox nodded in approval. "Is there anything else?"

Silence overtook the table. Then, after a long, awkward silence, Pepper answered, "No. That is all. As soon as you can, set a course for Aquas. Your informant will be waiting for you. Don't worry about the details for now. Those will be provided for you by the time you reach Aquas."

"Understood," Fox replied.

With the meeting completed, General Pepper rose from his seat, followed by everyone else at the table. James left his spot at the table and approached Fox, offering him a handshake before giving him a pat on the shoulder.

In spite of his desire to look collected regardless of the emotional trauma he had suffered after losing his team and his future bride in the Northpoint explosion, Fox struggled to suppress his anguish. With his voice hoarse, he asked his father, "Isn't it too soon for this?"

"Yes," the elder fox replied, "But duty doesn't wait for the pain to stop. I know you'll pull through this, Fox. And don't worry – I'll be available for you to call if you need me. I'm going to be busy with the East Fortuna counterattack, but I'll try my best to be there for you. If you really need emotional support and you can't reach me, you can always call Uncle Peppy."

Fox nodded, shaking his head while his ears drooped. "Be honest. Was assigning Scarlet to this job your idea?"

"Yes," said James. "She may be loose and unpredictable, but I've seen how well you get along with her. You can't deny her skills, either. Look – as unstable as she seems, I know she'll help keep you in check."

"I hope you're right," Fox muttered.

James took a step back and glanced at Scarlet, who approached him and gave Fox a sympathetic smile. "Let's get going, cous. I need to stop at my apartment first, but you can come with me. Have you eaten anything?"

Suddenly becoming aware of his intense hunger after eating nothing since the Northpoint incident the day before, Fox shook his head.

"That's fine. I've got some food at my place. You can take whatever you want. In fact, eat as much of it as you can or pack it up so we can take it with us, because we're probably not going to be around here again for a while." Stepping closer to Fox, the red vixen asked, "Do you still have your team's cargo plane?"

"I still have most of the equipment," Fox answered. "Guns, the cargo ship, two helicopters, the armored utility trucks – almost all of it. All I lost at Northpoint was my team. Heh – it sounds so trivial when I say it like that. None of them deserved to go out like they did."

As much as she wanted to reply with "shit happens," Scarlet bit her tongue and sighed in an act of forced sympathy for her cousin. Truth be told, she did feel deflated from Fox's loss, but she had never been much of an emotional person. "I'm sorry for you, Fox. Come on – let's go."

Scarlet turned towards the exit door, and Fox followed suit, knowing full well that she felt far less sympathy for him that the tone of her voice suggested. In some ways, he wanted to tell her that he would have preferred her to be honest with him instead of offering him an empty consolation.

Minutes later, Fox and Scarlet exited the base on foot and stepped into the civilian area that flanked it. In all directions, gleaming, modern buildings bordered the fresh, black asphalt crawling with vehicles, both personal and commercial alike. For Fox, the ultra-modern metropolis functioned as his base of operations; and as such, the advanced nature of Corneria City was lost on him. Scarlet, on the other hand, spent comparatively little time in the city despite renting an apartment in the downtown area, preferring instead to work outside of Cornerian jurisdiction.

She looked across the street in front of the military base and noted the five-level concrete parking deck where she had parked her car, then glanced at Fox and commented, "You never realize just how far ahead Corneria is compared to the other countries in Lylat. I've been taking jobs in Katina for the last three months, and they've got to be at least thirty years behind this place."

Fox stopped next to a foot traffic light and pressed the button to request the ability to cross the street. "It's no surprise that everyone wants to live here, or so it seems. I guess I kind of take it for granted sometimes."

"I only got back in town last week, so I'm still getting readjusted to it," she replied. "Too bad we're shipping out already. Speaking of that, have you ever been to Aquas?"

The light flashed green, showing the image of a stick man walking. Stepping onto the crosswalk in front of several idling cars, Fox jogged across the road and then turned to face Scarlet as she set foot on the sidewalk near the parking deck entrance. "I spent a day or two there at one point. From everything I've heard about it, it's like Zoness without a stick up its butt. Merc laws are looser, goods are cheaper, and there aren't as many rules in general. It's the place where people who aren't rich like to go on vacation."

"Sounds pleasant enough. Bring your swimsuit if you want to go to the beach while we're there. I know I definitely will," Scarlet replied, a smile on her face.

"Have you ever heard of that saying about not being able to mix business and pleasure?"

"Screw that," Scarlet scoffed. "What's a job if you can't enjoy it? I say as long as it doesn't keep us from getting our work done, we can do whatever we want."

Fox rolled his eyes. "Now I can see why you didn't even last a week in the army after completing the training program."

"Those tight-asses – trying to get me to conform to their ridiculous standards," the vixen replied. "It might work for them, but I can't deal with that crap. To be my best, I need my freedom."

Once again, Scarlet stepped in front of Fox and led him into the covered parking deck before motioning towards the stairwell on the right side of the darkened space where more than a hundred cars rested. A brief climb brought the two vulpines to the third floor. Pushing open the dented, corroded green door marked '3', Scarlet stepped onto the deck's concrete floor and pulled her car keys out of one of her catsuit's utility pockets.

With his eyes following Scarlet's motions, Fox observed, "So, you finally decided that your clothes needed to be functional too, huh?"

Scarlet looked over her shoulders and pushed her hips out in a way that accentuated her shapely, rounded flanks. Her suit's matte gray finish gave her body an enticing, reflective property that pleased Fox's eyes more than he felt comfortable with. "I had this suit custom-built for me a month ago. It's not just eye candy, either – it has seven cargo pockets, a built-in clip for a handgun, and to top it off, it's also lightweight, breathable, and above all, comfortable. This is the warm weather version. I've also got a waterproof one and a cold-weather version. I should hook you up with my designer. She's great."

"I think I'd rather avoid the matte gray finish on mine," Fox replied, giving Scarlet a disapproving glance. "That suit's borderline fetish material."

"That's your problem. Personally, I love it. I've got a few more with different colors in the works right now. Mostly black and gray, though." Giving her tail a quick twitch, she held out her key and pressed the unlock button, causing two flashes of yellow to briefly illuminate the parking deck's back wall. "There it is. We'll go to my apartment first so I can pick up some extra clothes, then I'll let you get whatever you need at your place. Do you even need anything?"

"I don't think so," Fox answered, crossing his arms. "I keep the _Great Fox_ stocked with more supplies than I keep at home."

Scarlet gave Fox a strange glance. "The _Great Fox?_ What's that?"

"Oh, it's my transport's nickname. One of my teammates came up with it as a joke, and I guess I liked it enough to let it stick."

"That's a really dumb name," Scarlet grinned, sauntering over to the source of the yellow flash – a red sport coupe that Fox recognized as a Zoness-built Occela Tipo F. He wondered what purpose Scarlet would have in owning a boutique sports car, but he did not fault her for it. While Scarlet dropped into the driver's seat, Fox opened the passenger door and took a seat next to her. She put her key in the ignition, but did not turn it, even after both doors had been closed. For a moment, she leaned back in her seat and took a deep breath that looked more suggestive than it should have. Then, she glanced at Fox out of the corner of her eye and softened her expression. "Don't take this the wrong way, but I said yes to your dad's offer to help you because I'm starting to get lonely out there. I'm not really into what I think General Pepper wants, but it's been awhile since I got to spend some time with you."

Fox shifted in his seat, his body language giving off clear signs of discomfort. "If you're trying to use me to make up for your own lack of a love life, then I don't want you coming with me to Aquas. I'm not in the mood for it, anyway. My future wife died with the rest of my team at Northpoint. I'm going to need some time to recover before I can move on."

Scarlet turned her body towards Fox. "That's part of the reason your dad asked me to help you. He knows we work well together. He didn't feel comfortable letting you go it alone on this one after what you went through yesterday."

"He was probably right to do that, although he really should have given me more time to regroup," Fox admitted. "There's just one thing I don't want you to do during all of this."

"What's that?"

"Don't try to hit on me. No one in my family would care if we hooked up, but I like what we have right now and I don't want to change it."

Scarlet sighed. "Alright. I can deal with that. It's probably for the better, anyway."


	2. Portico

**Arc I: The Aquas Informant**

 _Part 2: Portico_

Fox sat on a flat, gray bench covered with a vinyl-based leatherette. Crossing his legs and pulling them to his torso, he curled into a ball and listened to the faint whine of the _Great Fox_ 's six turbofan engines. Only a half hour remained until the massive aircraft was scheduled to arrive at a coastal airport in Aquas, located in a city named Avenura. According to General Pepper, the informant was in the nearby suburb of Portico – a small resort town best known for its beaches and tourist accommodations. The boredom of waiting to reach his destination gnawed at him, but it also gave him time to ponder what he had lost.

With the transport set on autopilot, Scarlet elected to remain on the top level as opposed to the cargo area, where Fox found temporary solace. His helicopter gunship occupied most of the cavernous space, along with his unit's numerous weapons caches and pieces of equipment. His mind pondered the upcoming meeting with the informant, which was made more difficult due to his projected arrival time of 0120 hours in the Aquas time zone. He assumed that searching out the informant at that time would prove fruitless; and based on that, he and Scarlet had already arranged for a hotel room in Portico.

Looking at his watch, he observed the two analog hands moving into place and showing a time of 1:00 AM. He sighed and leaned forward once again until he heard the sound of boots on the set of metal stairs that led from the flight deck to the cargo area. Letting out another sigh, he sat up and locked eyes with Scarlet as she stepped onto the cargo deck and approached him. Anticipating the need to look like a civilian once the _Great Fox_ landed, she wore a snug white V-neck shirt and a pair of ripped jean shorts that left her red and white leg fur exposed between her thighs and her black shins, covered by her combat boots. Through her shirt's thin fabric, Fox managed to make out the outline of a bikini top.

"You were serious about going to the beach, weren't you?"

Scarlet moved to within three feet of Fox and took a seat next to him on the bench. "You know, Portico _is_ a tropical resort town. I wouldn't want to miss an opportunity like that, would I?"

Looking at the red vixen out of the corner of his eye, Fox answered, "We probably won't be able to get in touch with the informant at this hour, so I don't blame you for making the most of it. I was planning to go straight to bed after we caught a ride into Portico and checked into our hotel room."

"Aw, live a little and come with me, Foxie. I won't be out for long."

Fox turned his head towards Scarlet and gave her a faint grin. "I guess there's no harm in it."

The two sat in silence for a minute afterwards. Then, a thick voice came over the ship's loudspeakers. "Sierra Foxtrot 01, you are clear for landing on extended service runway 3A. Please confirm."

"I'll handle this," said Fox, pushing himself out of his seat.

* * *

 _-_ § _-_

* * *

With the _Great Fox_ parked on the auxiliary aerospace pad at the massive Avenura airport, Fox and Scarlet stepped through the sliding exit doors after walking through the terminal area and having their passports cleared. Directly through the doors, a covered parking garage greeted their eyes, along with a white sedan with a taxi light mounted on the roof. The humid air that whistled through the parking deck smelled of salt and sand. Fox did not know the immediate temperature of the area, but it felt at least five degrees warmer than it did in Corneria City even though Avenura was roughly parallel with the Cornerian capital on a longitudinal axis.

As they approached the white taxi, the badger driving the vehicle climbed out of the drivers' seat and opened the trunk for his patrons, who dropped their bags into it and then slid into the back seat. Fox closed his door and leaned back into the seat while the driver circled around the front of the car. Then, Scarlet prodded his left side and quietly unzipped the front of her black jacket that she had donned before leaving the _Great Fox_. Fox began asking her what she was doing when he noticed a subtle pocket sewn into her jacket's liner. His eyes widened when Scarlet unzipped the pocket and pulled its contents out enough for Fox to see that she had managed to sneak a handgun through airport security.

Stunned and somewhat angry at the vixen, he whispered, "What were you thinking? You could have ruined everything if airport security ran a search on you! How did you even get that through the metal detector?"

"That's easy – I knew Aquas airport security was lax, and my gun is made of reinforced plastic and rubber. There's no metal in it," Scarlet replied, a grin on her face. "The bullets are made of a carbon composite that doesn't show up on metal detectors. However, they are insanely expensive."

Fox's attention drifted to the front of the car when the cabbie dropped into the drivers' seat and glanced over his shoulder at his passengers. "All right – where to?"

"We need to get to the Sandbar Hotel in Portico. How far is that from here?"

The badger stroked his muzzle and answered, "I'd say it's about fifteen minutes away. That's a nice place, you know. You're not going to have any complaints about staying there."

Fox sneaked a glance at Scarlet and said, "Well, she chose the hotel, so you can thank her for that."

The driver chuckled, then replied, "Looks like you got yourself a good one, mate."

Fox said nothing in response, although a sour expression worked its way onto his face in mere seconds. As if to add to his frustration, Scarlet elbowed him in the chest before leaning back into her seat and zipping up her jacket again.

" _They always say that whenever we go somewhere together. It's really starting to piss me off,"_ thought Fox.

Momentarily, the taxi exited the parking garage; and after navigating the complicated access roads, left the airport behind. Outside the airport, the scenery of Aquas whisked by through the cab's windows. Fox remembered his one other outing to the country, made up of several large islands off the coast of Zoness; although he spent so little time in the tropical area that very little of his visit stayed with him. Small, humble houses lay nestled amongst groves of palm trees that flanked the narrow two lane roads leading out of the city and into the surrounding suburban areas. The roads looked well-maintained, but their wear still stood out nonetheless. Fox guessed that beach traffic would be heavy during the day, but in the early hours of the morning, virtually no vehicles clogged the roadways. On several occasions, Fox caught glimpses of the pristine beaches through openings in the palm trees that lined the right side of the road.

After several miles of driving, the residential areas began to thin out, replaced by towering hotels and resorts that crowded the beachfront along with tourist-themed restaurants and gift shops that no local would ever consider entering. Among the numerous illuminated signs, the taxi driver spotted one marked "Sandbar Hotel" and slowed his car to a stop on the side of the road in front of the building.

The five-story Sandbar itself stood in contrast to some of the other gaudy hotels that surrounded it. Its sand-colored exterior offered no exceptional aesthetic appeal, but it looked clean and well kept. Upon seeing the building through his passenger side rear window, Fox expressed some surprise at Scarlet having picked such an unspectacular hotel. However, he liked the choice, seeing that the nightly rates at the Sandbar bested those of its flashy competitors.

After running his credit chip through the taxi's card reader, he opened his door and helped Scarlet out of the car. In return, she pulled both her bag and his out of the trunk and handed him the one with his team's winged fox emblem sewn onto it. The cab driver climbed back into his car and pulled away from the curb while his former passengers took in the view around them. A parking lot for the hotel appeared to the left of the building itself; and beyond it, the beach and the Central Lylat Ocean that separated Aquas and the eastern pangea from the western continent, home to Macbeth, the desert nation of Titania, the former Cornerian frontier state Katina, and a vast wasteland known as Venom.

While Fox yawned and rubbed his eyes after the long trip from Corneria City to Aquas, Scarlet nudged him and said, "You go ahead and get us checked in. I'll be out on the beach. Come and get me when you're finished."

Fox rolled his eyes. "Sure thing, honey."

He felt Scarlet punch him in the arm as he walked towards the sliding doors at the front of the hotel. Entering the hotel, he eyed the reception desk, where an exhausted skunk lady looked like she was on the verge of falling asleep in her chair behind the desk. Her eyelids dropped shut, but they snapped open when the sound of Fox's footsteps reached her ears. "Oh…er…welcome. Do you have a reservation?"

"It's under 'Altruis.' It should be a room with two queen beds on the third floor," Fox replied.

The receptionist typed in Fox's information, then looked up at him with a confirming smile. "I've got it right here. Looks like you already paid for it."

Fox nodded, grateful that Scarlet had offered to take a hit for the sake of the mission, even though she made it clear that Fox would owe her at some point in the future. While he observed the hotel lobby and took note of the breakfast area near the back of the atrium, the receptionist reached into a drawer next to her chair and handed him a sleeve containing two plastic cards. She then explained, "Your room number is 305, and as you probably know, the checkout time tomorrow is 11:00 AM. I hope you enjoy your stay, Mr. Altruis."

Fox blushed and considered explaining the fact that Altruis was not his family name, but decided to simply nod and exit the building for fear of exacerbating the situation. He shoved the card sleeve into the pocket of the khaki shorts that he had changed into before landing and walked towards the beach. The asphalt parking lot gave way to a wooden footbridge that snaked through towering reeds that brushed against his fur as he neared the beach.

At the edge of the bridge, he stopped and pulled his shoes off to prevent sand from entering them. Then, he stepped onto the beach and looked for Scarlet. His search did not take long. About thirty feet from the edge of the tide, the vixen lay on a black and red towel, adorned with a red string bikini that glowed when the moon shined on it. A towel identical to Scarlet's rested on the sand next to her. When Fox approached her, she looked up at him and gave him a smile that hinted at her being more tired than she would have believed.

Fox seated himself on the empty towel and looked at Scarlet. "Thanks for handling the hotel. I know your name doesn't show up on as many records as mine does, so that'll definitely make things a bit less conspicuous for us. Although a red vixen who could pass for a runway model lying on the beach at 1:30 in the morning is a bit suspicious."

Scarlet flashed her teeth. "I really don't see the harm. I don't get many chances to get away from it all, so when I do, I have to make sure I take them. I'm guessing you're going to head up to the room and crash now, right?"

Suppressing a yawn, Fox replied, "Yeah. How much longer are you going to be out here?"

"I'll pack up and come with you now," she answered, rolling over and pushing herself to her feet. "I just needed a few minutes to myself out here." She reached down and picked up her shirt and shorts, then pulled them on over her swimwear before shaking out her beach towel and throwing it over her shoulder.

Fox followed her lead and set to work shaking the sand out of his towel. "When are you getting up tomorrow morning?"

"Whenever you do," Scarlet replied. "Just shake me when you're ready. Don't worry, though – I promise you that I'm not going to sleep in like a drunken college student after a wild Friday night."

Fox had a feeling that she had spoken from experience; and on that note, he allowed a faint grin to grace his lips. Folding his towel in a disorganized manner, he turned back towards the Sandbar hotel and commented, "Hopefully this informant won't be as neurotic as I think he'll be. I've had to deal with too many guys like that already."

"Yeah, me too."

* * *

 _-_ § _-_

* * *

" _Hopefully this informant won't be as neurotic as I think he'll be. I've had to deal with too many guys like that already."_

" _Yeah, me too."_

Through a pair of high-powered camera binoculars, a solitary figure stood on the balcony of her hotel room, staring out at the beach where two vulpines had – for some strange reason – decided to lie out for only than a few minutes. She felt something unusual about the two when she happened to look out at the beach and noticed them. She recalled her commander informing her about a Cornerian mercenary who planned to speak with a former member of Anthracite Security who knew too much about her own faction's dealings. How her boss got the information, she did not know; but nonetheless, she understood that she could not allow the informant to divulge his secrets.

" _The male fox must be the mercenary. If I tail him, he'll probably lead me right to the target. It should be simple after that. Man – I can't believe my luck."_

For a minute, she watched as Fox and Scarlet walked across the wooden bridge that separated the hotel from the beach before they exited her range of vision and forced her to put her binoculars away. She listened to the sound of the ocean waves for a moment, indulging herself in the memories of her childhood that the salty waters brought to her mind. Then, she turned around with a frustrated scowl on her face and closed the glass partition between her room and the balcony. Back inside her hotel room, she ripped the blinds closed, obscuring the view of the ocean before she climbed onto the room's solitary bed and picked up a silver laptop that looked like it had seen better days.

She opened the screen, causing the computer display to light up and reveal a nondescript desktop background that only showed five icons. Scrolling her index finger along the laptop's trackpad, she double clicked on an icon in the top left part of the screen, marked "Deacomm Face-to-Face," then pulled her blocky, heavy-duty cell phone out of her sweat pants pocket and checked to make sure that she had enabled its built-in hotspot. The hotel offered free web service to its clients, but she knew that her upcoming conversation was too important to risk being leaked on the open server.

Seconds later, the program opened to reveal a loading screen that automatically connected with her employer. When the blue progress bar reached 100%, the screen expanded to fill the entire screen and began streaming a live video of a grizzled leopard in his early thirties. He wore a set of sage green military fatigues with 'MC' sewn onto his left chest pocket. He sat at a metal desk in a darkened room, illuminated only by a cheap LED desk light with a flexible stem and a mounting clip. Several windows could be seen behind him in the video, but blinds covered all of them.

Although his initial expression chilled his subordinate through her computer screen, his face softened as her end of the video appeared on the computer screen in front of him. "Good evening, Cassandra," he growled. "Do you have something to report?"

"Yes," the woman replied. "I think I located the mercenary you warned me about. For some reason, he and some vixen walked out to the beach in front of my balcony. I heard them talking about an informant, and I'm fairly certain he's our target."

"Anthracite Security's former engineering specialist Slippy Toad. It's obvious that General Pepper's mercenary is clueless to the danger of his situation. But still, you need to be careful when you act. He is no slouch; and even though he's not expecting any resistance, he's still more than capable of killing you, even without a weapon. He's that good."

"Don't worry, Commander. I won't give him the chance."

"You'd better not. With our current focus on East Fortuna and our intelligence operatives spread thin, I'd hate to lose someone like you. You've got one hell of a talent, Cassandra. Don't get yourself killed and lose it." He paused, then asked, "What about the vixen you saw with the mercenary? What did you make of her? Did you get any pictures that you can send to me?"

"I didn't recognize her. If I had to guess, she's probably his love interest or partner."

The leopard stroked his muzzle. "It might seem that way, but someone in his position would never allow for distractions on the job. There's a good chance that she's with him on the mission. I'm familiar with a few vixen mercenaries, so I think I might have a lead on who you saw. Just make sure you send me any pictures you took of her and the mercenary."

"I'll do that," the woman replied. "I'll contact you again tomorrow morning, Commander."

"Excellent. Thank you for your work."

With that, the video stream ended, returning Cassandra's computer back to the video conferencing menu. Closing her laptop, she placed it near the front of the bed and disrobed, dropping her clothes on the floor next to her bed before she burrowed under the covers and breathed a deep sigh of relief. She knew she needed to rise before the mercenary did if she wanted to have a good chance of tailing him, so she begrudgingly reached over and set her room's alarm clock for 5:00 AM. Then, she drifted off to sleep.

* * *

 _AUTHOR'S NOTE(S):_ _Alright, I'll admit that the_ _21st century_ Great Fox's _cargo area_ _was heavily inspired by the interior of the Nomad from Metal Gear Solid 4. If you picked that up on your own, good for you. Hmm...now, part of me wants to plant subliminal Easter eggs throughout this story. We'll have to see about that.  
_


	3. Paranoia Fuel

**Arc I: The Aquas Informant**

 _Part 3: Paranoia Fuel_

Morning broke for Fox thirty minutes before his 6:00 AM alarm clock. On most days while on call with his now-decimated unit, he awoke before most others; and the force of habit alone roused him from his sleep. Opening his eyes, he rubbed them and sat up in bed. The faint glow of dawn emanated from the distant horizon over the sapphire ocean, and the sound of the waves whispered through the thick hotel walls. The gentle noise almost lulled him back to sleep, but his discipline prevented him from returning to his dreams. Not that his dreams were an ideal place to return to, anyway. After the Northpoint incident, memories of the blast and the loss of his squadmates plagued his sleep. However, the mental image of his dead future wife haunted him the most. Whoever the culprit for the blast was, Fox wanted nothing more than to wrap his hands around his throat and choke him to death, even though his team's murderer was likely nothing more than a mere pawn in the East Fortuna rebels' plan.

Looking to his left, he watched Scarlet sleep. Her hair lay disheveled on her pillow, and a faint strand of saliva dripped down her mouth as she rested, oblivious to anything around her. Nevertheless, Fox knew her to be an extraordinarily light sleeper who would awake to nearly anything in most circumstances.

Ignoring this, he slid out of bed, accepting the fact that Scarlet would see him wearing only his boxer briefs if she woke up before he could dress himself. When Scarlet remained asleep, he walked into the nearby bathroom and prepared a shower. Before stepping in, he glanced at the large mirror that made up most of the bathroom's left wall. For the first time in two days, his world seemed to slow down. His face looked haggard, with dark circles protruding from beneath his eyes. His body itself reflected the anguish and wear he had put on it during and after Northpoint; and to his eyes, he looked every bit as bad as he felt, at least emotionally. He had suffered loss with his unit before and learned how to cope with the passing of a fellow comrade, but losing his entire combat unit and his prospective spouse all at once hit him with more emotional force than he could handle. He attempted to keep a straight face in front of others, but now, with his agony-wracked image staring him in the face, he realized that it had done nothing.

He knew that his immediate pain would be temporary for the most part, but for the moment, the grim physical reminders of his recent past seared his mind. Not wanting to look at himself any longer, he turned around and stepped into the shower, closing the curtain behind him.

Minutes later, he turned the water off and dried his fur with a white towel. Due to his thick vulpine pelt, a substantial amount of water remained, but he knew it would evaporate eventually. He figured Scarlet would have awakened by this point and cursed himself for not bringing any extra clothes with him into the bathroom. Accepting the inevitable, he pulled on his boxers, hung up his towel, and opened the bathroom door. Not bothering to be quiet, he stepped back into the main bedroom area and grabbed his bag, which lay on a small wooden desk underneath a wall-mounted television.

As he moved back towards the bathroom to change, he heard the sound of sheets rustling, followed by Scarlet's voice. "Good morning, hot stuff."

Fox turned red and glanced over his shoulder at the vixen as she sat up in her bed and yawned. A moment later, she slid out of bed and set foot on the floor, wearing her white t-shirt from the night before along with a pair of black panties. If Fox was honest with himself, he expected to get an eyeful when she climbed out of bed, but her comparative modesty set him at ease, if only for a moment. Noticing the bag in Fox's hand, she asked him, "How long are you going to be in there? I need to fix my hair."

"Only about a minute," Fox replied. "Normally, I'd tell you not to waste your time with your hair, but it really looks awful right now."

Scarlet responded with a playful punch that caught him in the arm. "I won't take long. I'd like to get this meeting with the informant over with so we can have some real fun while we're here. General Pepper didn't say anything about what we were supposed to do after we questioned the informant and relayed the information to him, so I figured we'd have a bit of time off afterwards."

Reaching behind his left ear to scratch an itch, Fox responded, "These kinds of missions rarely ever go as planned. I wouldn't get my hopes up if I were you. I know General Pepper didn't say much about it, but I think he's got more planned for us after we talk to the informant. Not that I don't need the time off."

"You're probably right," Scarlet admitted, glancing at the maroon carpet under her feet, covered with lush fur that gave her the illusion of wearing black, knee-length stockings. "Well, hurry up and get changed. I'm hungry, and I want to get breakfast before everyone else in the hotel shows up."

After Fox dressed himself and allowed Scarlet to reign in her hair, the two foxes stepped out of their room with their travel bags in hand. Neither had any intention of returning to the room. Both wore the same clothes as the day before, although Scarlet's appearance differed thanks to her rapid hair repair which amounted to tying it in an awkward ponytail. At least, Fox thought it looked awkward, largely because he had never seen her wear it any way other than the way she normally kept it. Noticeably, Scarlet wore her lightweight jacket over her shirt as a means of hiding the handgun she kept inside it.

Stepping into the nearby elevator, Fox pressed the down arrow and then glanced at his black timepiece. 6:32. He would have preferred to leave his room at an even earlier time, but the hotel's breakfast didn't start until 6:30. _"At least no one else will be down there,"_ he thought. He glanced at Scarlet out of the corner of his eye and hoped that she would not notice; and to his relief, her eyes seemed fixated on something else in the elevator. The last thing he wanted was for Scarlet to make him admit to being smitten by her appearance, which he was. As attractive as his late fiancée looked, he had to admit that he thought Scarlet outclassed her in that department.

Shortly, the elevator stopped on the ground floor, and the doors slid open to reveal the hotel's main atrium. Both Fox and Scarlet walked towards the back of the building, where an expansive dining area sprawled out before them. At the moment, only four other people occupied the area. Fox took note of the other patrons – a duo of orange tabbies who looked like a husband and wife, a lone Alsatian dog seated in a leather chair next to one of the dining room's massive windows that provided a view of the currently-unoccupied outdoor swimming pool, and an odd-colored vixen who sat by herself in the extreme back left corner of the dining room, just outside the area where the self-serve buffet was located.

As soon as he laid eyes on the vixen, he found it nigh impossible to pull them away from her. She wore a short, purple sundress that matched her sapphire blue fur, accented by a large patch of white that ran from her chest to her nose. He assumed that she had used some form of fur dye to attain her coloration, but he had never seen a blue-furred fox before. He stared at her for over five seconds until she lifted her eyes from her plate and placed them on him. Quickly looking away, he followed Scarlet into the kitchen area, where he snatched up two bagels and an egg while she poured herself a small bowl of fiber-heavy cereal. Fox viewed her choice of food as odd, but he realized that there was a reason for how she managed to keep her figure as close to perfect as most people thought possible.

Scarlet led Fox over a table near the window overlooking the pool and sat down with her back to the glass. Fox took a seat across from her, leaving him unable to see the blue vixen seated on the other side of the room. _"Perhaps that's a good thing,"_ he thought, knowing that for some reason, the vixen's appearance made it next to impossible for him to focus on anything else.

While Fox spread cream cheese on his bagels, Scarlet took a bite of her cereal and whispered, "Did you see the blue fox on the other side of the room?"

"How could I not?" Fox replied. "I've never seen someone with that fur color before."

"Get this – it's natural."

Fox dropped his butter knife, which fortunately only made a clicking sound against the table's surface. "How do you know that?"

"Because I've read about it before. You might want to get a good look of her, because you'll probably never seen another one of her kind again."

Taking a bite of a bagel, Fox asked, "What? Are they that rare?"

"From the article I read, there are only about 15,000 of them in the whole world. That's less than one-one thousandth of the world's population. Not only that, but their culture is extremely reclusive. Almost all of them live on an island group in the middle of the ocean west of Macbeth and east of Corneria. They're extreme luddites, which explains why most of them never leave the island. They don't even have boats with motors!"

"That's…interesting," Fox muttered.

"I think they're just really superstitious. They don't like outsiders, either. Most people who try to land on the islands don't come back."

Fox returned a dumbfounded expression. "What are these people called?"

"Cerinians," Scarlet replied. "That's the name of the island group – the Cerinian Islands. It's supposed to be a really nice place, but you'll never find out if it's true."

Fox glanced over his shoulder, only for the blue vixen to lock eyes with him. Pretending to be interested in his bagel, he turned back around and asked Scarlet, "What's she doing here, then?"

"Heck if I know. If you really want to find out, why don't you ask her?"

"Well, I don't want to intrude, and…"

Scarlet smiled. "She's coming over here right now, so I don't think you've got much to worry about."

Fox cringed, then turned around to find himself five feet from the bluefur. Her face seemed calm enough, but it rapidly changed and reflected both anger and frustration. "Is there something wrong with you? Can't you let a girl have her space?"

"I'm sorry," said Fox. "Really. It's hard not to look at you, though. You are blue, after all."

The vixen softened her expression and dismissively waved her hand at Fox. "I was just kidding. I'm used to having people stare at me. By this point, I really don't care about it. My name's Krystal, just so you know. What's yours?"

"I'm Fox, and she's…er…Cynthia," he replied, not knowing if Scarlet approved of him using her birth name – the one not associated with her mercenary work.

"Pleased to meet you. So, what brings you to Aquas?"

Fox gave Scarlet a quick, concerned glance and then answered, "We're here for the beach. Work's been tough, so it was about time for a vacation."

"Oh, is that so? What do you do?"

Fox knew the vixen meant no harm in her questions, but they were hitting too close to home for his liking. "I'm an insurance adjuster," he lied. "What do you do?"

"I'm looking for a new line of work right now. I used to be a model, but it never felt right. It was fun while it lasted, though."

Fox's eyes widened just enough for both Krystal and Scarlet to notice. "Um…do you have any of your old work with you?"

A smile worked its way onto Krystal's lips. "You'll have to look it up on your own," she replied, giving Fox a wink. "You can see some of my old samples on krystalmodel . ele. I used to do commissions for individual clients, so the pictures on the site are just examples of my work."

"An Eledard extension, huh?"

"That's where I'm from. Well, not originally, but it's where I call home for now."

Having been told about it by Scarlet, Fox wanted to ask her about her birthplace, but he restrained himself. _"She probably wouldn't want to talk about it anyway."_

A brief, awkward silence ensued, with all three foxes glancing at each other without any real purpose until Fox cleared his throat and grabbed his plate. "We've got to get going. It was nice meeting you, Krystal."

"Same to you, Fox," she replied, winking at him before she turned back towards her empty table on the other side of the room. Scarlet still had half of her cereal left in her bowl, but she begrudgingly followed Fox as he stood up and tossed his partially-eaten breakfast in the nearest trashcan. With a sigh, she dropped her bowl in after it and exited the breakfast area behind Fox.

The two walked through the hotel lobby, where Fox placed his room keys on the reception desk, then exited through the sliding glass entry doors that parted for them and caused a draught of humid ocean air to breeze into the hotel. When the doors slid shut behind them, Scarlet pushed Fox off the side and groused, "You know, I really wanted to finish my breakfast, but you just couldn't keep your eyes in place."

Holding up his hands, Fox apologized, "Sorry about that. I felt that she was getting too close to figuring out why we're really here. I don't think she meant any harm, but she was making me nervous."

"Yeah, sure," Scarlet huffed. "You know, when you find yourself in situations like that, just bullshit things. Lie until you're blue in the face as long as you know it's not going to come back to bite you."

"Normally, I'd try to do that, but I didn't do it this time because…um..well…"

Scarlet rolled her eyes. "Oh no – don't tell me it's because you want to get something started with her. You told me to back off so you could grieve over your dead wife, but now you've already got your eyes set on that blue-furred freak. What a hypocrite."

"I'm not trying to get something started with her. She's probably just a tease, anyway. But I do want to check out that website…"

"You are unbelievable. And I don't mean that in the nice way," Scarlet grumbled.

"The same could be said about you," Fox retorted.

"What can I say? My reputation precedes me. Joking aside, we should start looking for that informant now that we can't go back into the hotel…thanks to _you_." She prodded Fox with more force than necessary, causing him to step to the side and into a prickly hedge of shrubs that lined the hotel's front sidewalk.

Fox growled in pain, pushing himself out of the bushes before brushing out his fur and glaring at Scarlet. "Fine. General Pepper sent me his exact address after we arrived early this morning, so it won't be hard to find him. From what he told me, the informant has holed himself up in his house and won't come out for any reason. He may also have some kind of security measures set up around the place."

"Security measures? How legal?"

"Well, I would expect some cameras at the very least, but that's not much to be concerned about. He knows we're coming, and General Pepper has already told him what to look for. His name is Slippy Toad, by the way."

Scarlet gave him a confused expression. "What I don't get here is why 'Slippy' didn't just give all his information to General Pepper over the phone. I mean, it would have saved us a trip out here."

"It's because he thinks he's being targeted and wants someone to get him out of Aquas first."

"Is he actually being targeted, or is he just paranoid?"

Fox looked off to the side, then answered, "I think he might be in a bit of danger, but I think he's mostly just paranoid. I mean, he won't leave the house because he thinks there's a sniper aiming at it, waiting for him to step out the front door. I'm not kidding! General Pepper sent me a few pictures of the house, and all the windows are covered up with more than five layers of plywood each."

Scarlet laughed. "That's proof enough that there is no sniper, because five sheets of plywood isn't enough to stop one of those bullets."

"Exactly. If there was a sniper, he would have been killed by now," Fox replied.

"Doesn't he have to leave the house at some point, though? What about food…and toilet paper?"

"Online ordering," Fox chuckled.

Shaking her head, Scarlet muttered, "Seriously, I'm not sure I want to go into his house. It probably looks like my mom got loose in there and created one of her 'artistic' abstract homescapes, as she called them."

"What's the story behind that?" Fox asked, raising a quizzical eyebrow.

"I'll have to tell you later. My family was…scratch that – _is_ weird. It's an interesting story."

"Hmm…" Fox mumbled. "Let's save that one for later when we need to kill time. Right now, we need to get to that house. According to my GPS…" he reached into his shorts pocket and pulled out his military-grade phone, then selected a navigation icon that presented him with an overhead view of Portico. A blue circle marked his location; and a few miles to the west, a white arrow hovered over a section of the city built into a depression surrounded by palm trees. "The house is five miles from here. I'd rather not walk, so it would be best to call a cab."

"Right with you on that," Scarlet replied. "I guess I'll pay for it since you covered the ride to the hotel."

* * *

 _-_ § _-_

* * *

The taxi's brakes groaned, the sound mixing with the crunching of the gravel road under the car's tires. While Scarlet paid the driver, Fox opened his door, tossed his small bag over his shoulder and stepped out of the car. The area he found himself in still possessed the tropical aura of the surroundings, but something about the locale struck his as unpleasant. Palm trees and tropical bushes swayed in the ocean breeze, and a large hill marked the back end of the housing area where his journey ended. The gravel road in front of him sloped downwards, revealing five small mobile homes, one of which looked jerry-rigged with all sorts of bizarre contraptions. Even from a distance of two hundred feet, he made out the outlines of three security cameras mounted to the underside of the roof, along with the hideous plywood sniper cover that matched up with General Pepper's images.

As he stared at the undesirable dwelling, the taxi turned around and drove off. Scarlet stopped beside him and leaned on his shoulder, then whispered into his ear, "I think Pepper was a bit too generous with his use of the word 'house.'"

Fox gently pushed Scarlet off of him and answered, "You're not kidding. This is a trailer park if I ever saw one. Now I'm actually glad you smuggled that gun of yours through airport security."

"Oh, give me a break, Fox. What are the odds that I'm actually going to need to use it?"

Fox narrowed his eyes. "One thing I've learned over the years is to never let your guard down. This could be a lot more dangerous than we think it is. Just think – what would we would have to do if this informant's paranoia is actually justified?"

"I doubt that it's anywhere near as bad as he thinks it is," Scarlet scoffed.

"So do I, but he _does_ have information that Pepper needs, though. I know he definitely wouldn't send us here if that wasn't true. Still, don't let your guard down."

"Fair enough," Scarlet replied.

Fox and Scarlet walked towards the house with a trace of uncertainty in their minds. As much as they wanted to dismiss the informant's extreme precautions as nothing more than madness, both of them wondered if he had a legitimate reason for covering his house in security cameras and boarding up all the windows. Stepping onto the half-withered grass in front of the rickety porch that marked the front of the mobile home, Scarlet suddenly snapped her head to the left. For some reason, she expected to see something of note, but only trees, bushes, grass, and a plastic pink flamingo in the informant's yard met her eyes. The bowl-shaped depression that contained the trailer park blocked the rest of Portico from her view, effectively hemming in the trashy hamlet.

Scarlet shook her head and followed Fox up the rotting steps leading to the front door. Both of them could feel the security cameras recording their every move, and they knew that whoever was inside the house was well aware of their presence. Taking a deep breath, Fox rapped on the white front door. Five seconds later, a frightened, high-pitched voice responded, "Who is it?"

"We're working for General Pepper," Fox replied. "We need to find out what you know."

For three tense seconds, silence fell over the trailer park, apart from the rustling of an abandoned fast food bag nearby. Then, the door swung open, revealing a rotund, green frog who looked like he hadn't slept in weeks. Bloodshot eyes accompanied his trembling hands, although the rest of him looked somewhat presentable. He wore a black t-shirt and matching black cargo pants, with a laughably small red and white hat positioned atop his head to complete his unusual appearance. He held a sawed-off pump shotgun in his right hand; and judging from the location of his trigger finger, Fox noted that he had been preparing to use it on him and Scarlet if they had not been who they claimed to be. "C…Come in," the frog croaked.

Fox and Scarlet looked at each other, then followed the informant into his mobile home. To Scarlet's surprise, his residence looked much cleaner than she had expected. However, one egregious detail stood out above all others.

"Where did you get all these guns?" she asked, noticing the line of firearms leaning against the left wall across from the tiny kitchen area.

Slippy turned around and ambiguously replied, "Being a mercenary has its advantages. There's always a way to get these things through customs if you've got an alibi as a merc."

"Speaking of that," said Fox. "What was your position in Anthracite Security? Why aren't you with them anymore?"

"I was their engineering specialist. I also flew the helicopters," Slippy replied. "Why do you care about this stuff?"

"No reason in particular."

The sleepless amphibian narrowed his oversized eyes. "If you're not going to tell me that, I'm not going to tell you why they kicked me out. Sound good?"

"Fine," Fox growled.

Slippy stepped into the diminutive living room and snatched a large gym bag off of his old, roughshod purple couch. "You two brought a car with you, right?"

Fox and Scarlet glanced at each other through their peripheral vision. "No," Fox replied.

Barely managing to hold onto his bag, Slippy snapped, "Why not? There are people after me. There's a sniper out there. He's been hounding me for days! Call a taxi now!"

Scarlet put her hands on her hips. "If there's a sniper watching you, you're going to need a lot more than a taxi to protect you, pal."

"You're right! Call a limo service. Make sure the windows are tinted black. We can have them park on the side of the building so when we get in, the sniper won't be able to pick us off. He's behind the house, shooting from the hill to the left of the front door."

Scarlet raised her eyebrows. "You know, I thoughtI saw something up there. But if he's aimed at the house, why didn't he shoot us when we walked up to your front door?"

"They're after me, not you," Slippy replied. "I've got the secrets they don't want to leak out."

Crossing his arms, Fox asked, "Can't you just give us the information now? We're not going to leave you here."

"Sorry, but I don't trust you. When we're out of Aquas, I'll tell you everything."

Fox scowled and reached into his pocket, pulling out his cell phone and searching for a nearby limo service. "Fine. Scars, this limo ride makes us even."

"Not if you keep calling me that," Scarlet huffed.

While Slippy nervously looked around the interior of his mobile home as if someone was about to burst through one of the boarded-up windows, Fox raised his phone to ear level and waited until he heard the soft voice of the receptionist on the other end of the line.

" _This is Grand Limousine Rentals, Avenura airport branch. How can we help you today?"_

Attempting to disguise his frustration, Fox replied, "Hey, good morning. I need to schedule a pick-up at 701 Tumbleweed Drive in Portico. How soon can you get out here? Any car will work as long as it has tinted rear windows."

Fox could tell that he had taken the receptionist off guard with his forwardness. Trying to form a coherent sting of sentences, she answered, _"Um…We have an SUV returning from a previous drop-off right now. I can have it out to you in twenty minutes. What's your name?"_

Glancing at Slippy, he told the receptionist, "Fox McCloud. If twenty minutes is the earliest you can send it over, that's fine. I'll pay the driver when he arrives. I can do that, right?"

" _Yes, Mr. McCloud. Is there anything else I can help you with today?"_

"No, that's it. Thanks," Fox finished, closing the call and shoving his phone back into his pocket.

Scarlet crossed her arms and sighed. "I guess now we wait."

While she turned towards the main entry door, Fox glanced at her and said, "Now's as good a time as ever to tell me about your family."

Scarlet looked back at Fox with a deer in the headlights expression, but it softened into an uneasy grin as the seconds passed. "Sure. Come a bit closer, Fox."

Following Scarlet's instructions, he crept towards the red vixen until only two feet separated them. Judging from her mannerisms, she would have preferred Slippy not to overhear what she was about to say. Slippy himself took notice of this and walked towards the living room, flopping down on the old couch that sat in front of an even more antiquated television that looked like it hadn't worked in years.

With the amphibian out of earshot, Scarlet whispered, "Don't tell me I didn't warn you about this, because it's pretty grim."

"I think I can handle it," Fox replied. "Where were you before we met during the training program? How did you end up there anyway?"

Scarlet paused for thought, then explained, "I heard about the army's training program by word of mouth while I was attending college in Warton. I wasn't really enjoying my studies, so I figured I'd give it a shot."

"It figures that you wouldn't ever finish college," Fox joked.

"Hey – at least I got a head start on you. Tell me, Mr. Education, what did your schooling teach you that helped you get ahead in the mercenary business?"

Fox opened his hand and began counting on his fingers. "Hmm…let me see – business management, economics, linguistics, sociology…just a few small things that gave me a leg up on running my own mercenary enterprise."

Scarlet's expression became noticeably sullen. "Well, screw you. I was never the college type anyway."

"I'm sure your parents were thrilled with you wasting their money."

Defiantly, the vixen glared at him and stated, "I paid for it myself. I ended up in child protective services when I was fifteen and haven't seen anyone in my birth family since then – apart from you, I guess. But then again, you're my third cousin. We're so distantly related that it's almost meaningless."

Fox's ears flattened. "Oh my word – I had no idea. I'm so sorry."

"Don't feel sorry for me. At least I made a life for myself. It could have ended up being so much worse."

"I'm glad things turned out well for you, too," Fox replied. "If you don't mind, how did you end up in child protective services?"

Scarlet rolled her eyes. "Mainly, it was because my parents were abusive, nasty SOBs. You wanna know why I can just ignore my emotions and work bounty hunting gigs when the target didn't even do anything wrong? All you have to do is look at my childhood. I hated my family. I still hate my family, but in a perverse way, I'm grateful for how badly they treated me."

Hints of sadness appeared on Fox's face. "How did you get out of there?"

"Our neighbor started noticing how badly my parents were abusing me, so they called the cops on them. That was without a doubt the best thing that ever happened to me. My parents were immigrants from Fortuna, so there weren't any other family members in Corneria who could care for me. So, the local government found a weird leopard couple who wanted to take me in."

Fox cocked his head to the side. "What do you mean when you say that they were weird? I'm assuming this is the family you were talking about when you mentioned that your family was a bit 'different.'"

"That's right. They're the people that I call my family now, and I think eccentric is the right word for them. They didn't get out much. My 'stepdad', if you want to call him that, was an author who spent most of his time reading, writing, and collecting wine. His wife designed clothes for a living, but I have a feeling both of them were loaded and didn't need any extra money. I think they just did those things to stay busy. I did notice a coat of arms on one of their walls, so they might have been nobility. I hear that the Zonessian royal family was deposed about thirty years ago. Maybe that's where they ended up."

"By any chance, did your stepmom happen to design clothes for fetishists?" Fox asked, a hint of humor in his voice.

"Absolutely," Scarlet grinned in response. "Both she and my stepdad wore the stuff, so I followed along. It felt awkward at first, but then I really started to like it. It sure turned the guys on."

"Some things never change," Fox replied, rolling his eyes.

Sensing that Scarlet's conversation was drawing to a close, he glanced towards the living room, then heard the sound of gravel outside the house. "Is our ride here already? It's only been ten minutes."

"You'd better get out there and check to make sure," Slippy replied from the couch. "Use the side door over there."

Scarlet frowned and whispered into Fox's ear, "I don't like this. Something seems wrong. I'm going with you."

Fox mumbled a few incoherent syllables, then walked past the kitchen, towards the sliding door on the right side of the mobile home. The sliding door itself looked like it had used to be covered in glass, but thanks to Slippy's paranoia, the sheet of glass had been replaced with plywood. Not sure what to expect outside the house, Fox unlatched the door and slid it open. As he stepped outside, a long, black limousine pulled up to the steps outside the door. The driver's side window rolled down, revealing a sharp-dressed Doberman. "Good morning. I'm here for a 'Slippy Toad.' Is he inside?"

Fox and Scarlet locked eyes, then Fox approached the car. The air around the limousine grew tense as he stared at the canine with an expression that he thought could have melted ice. He watched the driver's countenance change to reflect an air of tension and fear. At that moment, he put his faith in his instincts and lunged forward. Before the Doberman could react, Fox punched him in the face, then reached inside his door and grabbed the latch. The instant the door opened, Fox reached in and threw the driver to the ground.

He looked towards Scarlet, then heard the sound of frantic footsteps on the ground, coming from behind the limousine. He opened his mouth to warn the vixen, but she already knew what to expect. In two quick motions, she unzipped her jacket and pulled out her handgun. Backing against the side of the car and crouching below the windows, she crept towards the back, making every effort to avoid crunching her feet on the gravel. Then, she pushed herself away from the side of the limo and turned around. A massive gray wolf crouched behind the back bumper with a military-grade assault rifle in his hands. He swung the weapon in Scarlet's direction, but she lined up her sights and fired a single shot between his eyes before he could place his finger on the trigger.

The wolf's body dropped to the ground, allowing Scarlet to focus on the front of the car, where the driver struggled to get up and fight back against Fox. The vulpine pressed his shoes into the Doberman's back and prevented him from moving, but when the dog made a frantic attempt at curling up and grabbing his leg, Fox took his foot off the driver's back and slammed it into the back of his head. "Scarlet! Do a body search!"

"I don't have anything on me!" the canine snarled. "You're going to pay for this!"

Scarlet bared her teeth and knelt next to the furious dog. "We'll see about that, sunshine. Don't resist, or I'll make your dentist a happy man, if you know what I mean."

Reaching for his pockets, Scarlet's fingers dug through each of them until she felt the surface of a leather wallet in the back of his pants. She pulled it out and opened it, then glanced at the driver's ID card on the wallet's left flap.

" _Marco Thomaso, Species: Doberman pinscher, Height: 6'0", Weight: 175lb. Residence: 4224 Lindmarck Ave., Frontier City, Macbeth."_

Scarlet's eyes narrowed as she read the word 'Macbeth' on his ID. Dropping the wallet, she aimed her handgun at the Doberman's head and stood up. "Slippy! Get in the car now!" she ordered, looking towards the opened door on the side of the amphibian's mobile home.

"Where's he from?" Fox demanded.

"Macbeth," Scarlet growled. "I say we let him have it. If we don't get out of here now, we're going to put ourselves in extreme danger. I'm already starting to wonder if there actually is a sniper aiming at the house. This bastard isn't going to have any information we need, so I think it would be best to off him now to keep him from causing any trouble."

Fox crossed his arms and nodded, then pulled his foot off the Doberman's back and stepped to the side. Without any hesitation, Scarlet pulled the trigger and buried a carbon fiber bullet in his skull. A second later, Slippy emerged from inside the house with his oversized gym bag on his shoulder.

"Get in the back, Slippy!"

While Slippy darted for the door at the rear of the stretched car, Fox picked up the driver's dead body and dragged it towards the back of the car. Scarlet opened the back and shoved the other body into the trunk. While Fox did the same with the driver's body, Scarlet ran around the front of the car and jumped into the passenger seat, leaving Fox to take the wheel.

As he stepped into the car, he looked around the trailer park and saw a terrified raccoon standing on his front porch a hundred feet away, staring at the scene in front of him. _"I knew that would attract too much attention. There wasn't any other way around it, though."_

Closing his door and looking over his shoulder at Slippy, he shouted, "Does this gravel drive loop around to the entrance?"

"It does," Slippy replied. "Hurry up and get us out of here. The cops will be here any minute now!"

Fox gritted his teeth and shifted the limo into gear. Punching the gas, he followed the gravel drive as it formed a right hairpin curve around a small pond covered in unsightly algae. As he passed the mobile next to Slippy, the raccoon on the front porch darted back inside, slamming the door behind him. His eyes drifted towards the mobile until Scarlet prodded him in the arm in time to prevent him from driving off the road.

He saw the trailer park's exit up ahead, and to his right, he took a quick glance at Slippy's house. Then, somewhere on the hill that overlooked it, he thought he saw something. Out of nothing more than instinct, he slid forward in his seat until his head was below the steering wheel and shouted, "Get down!"

Less than a second later, a bullet screamed through the limousine's front windows, shattering the glass in its wake. Scarlet let out an uncharacteristically girly scream and threw her hands up in terror as her window exploded. While she forced herself to reclaim her poise, Fox clutched his head and roared in pain. Grabbing the steering wheel for him, Scarlet shouted, "Fox! What happened?"

"I think that bullet caught me in the ear," he grunted, pulling his hand away from his ear and cringing when he saw blood covering his entire palm. "Stay down – they're probably going to shoot a…"

A second shot shattered the passenger side back window mere feet away from where Slippy had seated himself. Taking his eyes off the road for a moment, Fox craned his neck and looked back towards Slippy to find him lying prone on the floor under his seat. The frog held his eyes closed, but his panicked breathing made it clear that he was still very much alive.

Fox turned his head back towards the road, only to be thrown to the right and into Scarlet's shoulder when she turned the wheel to the left in an attempt at leaving the trailer park. The car swerved back and forth as Fox struggled to regain control, but after wresting the wheel from Scarlet and trying to ignore the searing pain in his right ear, he centered the limousine in the right lane and set the cruise control.

"I didn't ask you to drive for me," he snapped at Scarlet, whose fur still stood on end from her brush with death.

"Hey, I was just trying to help. I thought that bullet might have hit you somewhere more important. I know the airport is the other way, but I needed to get out of that sniper's sights before we did anything else."

Fox sighed and clutched his bleeding ear. "Thanks. You did the right thing. Slippy's still alive, and we should be in the clear…for the time being."

Through the windshield, Scarlet noticed a distant series of flashing lights approaching them in the distance and glared at her counterpart with a fearful expression. "Fox! Get off the road now!"

The two-lane road in front of them seemed to stretch for miles without the slightest curve, and near the edge of Portico, rural areas overtook the cityscape several miles behind them. To the left, a vast expanse of palm trees lay interspersed with a number of older, low-budget houses; and to the right, the only scenery amounted to a vast orange grove. Then, Fox spotted a paper-thin dirt trail that seemed to lead into the grove. Slamming on the brakes, he dove off the road and onto the snaking dirt pathway that barely accommodated the limousine. With the road behind him, he found himself driving through a seemingly-endless lane of orange trees, most of which were ripe with fruit. As beautiful as he thought the scenery was, he felt that he had made a grave mistake. Although he saw no one around, he feared the wrath of the orange grove's owner, wherever he was. He tried to think up an explanation for why he had driven a limousine into an orange grove without coming up with anything overly suspicious, but nothing came to mind.

By this point, he thought he had driven far enough to avoid detection by the police, who were no doubt on the way to investigate the violent series of events surrounding Slippy's mobile home. He stopped the car and moved his hand to the column shifter to engage the park gear, but then his ears picked up on the most horrible of noises – the sound of an approaching vehicle.

Cursing his luck, he threw the car in reverse and pushed the throttle, but he quickly realized that over two hundred feet of orange grove separated him from the road. Although he refused to admit it, he knew he had no chance of escaping the grove before the nearby farm hand caught him trespassing on his land.

Scarlet attempted to read Fox's mind through his actions and pulled out her handgun. "If we need to, we can take them out to buy us more time."

Fox slammed on the brakes and stopped the car. "Are you serious, Scarlet?"

"Well, it's an option."

"No, it's not. We're not going to just gun down civilians because it's convenient. Man, I hope you haven't been doing that on your jobs."

Scarlet scratched her muzzle and replied, "Not normally, but sometimes those people can _really_ get in the way. Sometimes one of them is the difference between you dying and living to fight another day. Hey – we _are_ mercenaries, you know. We don't operate under the same laws as police or the military."

"Well, some of us have standards, unlike you," Fox growled.

"My standard is success," Scarlet retorted. "Whatever it takes to get the job done, I'll do it."

Fox's attention wandered back to the path in front of him. Another path intersected it at a ninety degree angle, and an old, blue pickup truck with wooden rails on the sides clattered to a stop thirty feet in front of them. "Crap. They spotted us," Fox muttered.

He reached for his door handle, all the while looking for the driver of the vehicle. He expected to see an old, crotchety farmer, but shock overtook him when he laid eyes on the farm hand. In complete contrast to what he imagined, an orange-furred vixen with black hair climbed out of the truck. She wore a red gingham shirt that she left unbuttoned below her chest, along with a pair of torn light blue jean shorts similar to the ones that Scarlet had on at the moment. For a moment, Fox forget what he planned to do and simply stared at her as she walked around the front of her truck and approached the limo. That is, until Scarlet punched him in the arm.

As she neared the car, she laid eyes on Fox, tilted her head to the side, and narrowed her eyes. She motioned for Fox to roll his window down, but when she realized that the window had been shot out, she walked up to the side of the car and crouched next to Fox's door. Making her frustration known to him, she asked, "What are you doing here? This is private property."

Fox recalled Scarlet's advice from earlier and fabricated a lie on the spot. "Um…we got lost and we were trying to turn around, but when we pulled off the road, we realized that the traffic was too heavy to back into. So, we figured there would be another way out if we drove in here. I guess there isn't one. Sorry."

The farming vixen bared her canines. "Aright, I'll tell you what, pal. Tell me the _real_ reason you drove into my orange grove, and I'll consider not taking you to court for trespassing."

Fox turned to Scarlet and gave her the most evil expression he had at his disposal. Then, he forced himself to look at the furious vixen outside the car. He tried to keep his vision focused on her face, but one too many of her shirt's buttons were left unfastened. "Alright – if I tell you the truth, I expect you to believe me, okay?"

"Yeah. Spit it out. You'd better have a damn good reason for this," she growled.

Fox bit his lip, feeling the blood dripping down the side of his head from his injured ear. "Okay –we're mercenaries from Corneria, and we're trying to help our passenger in the back seat get out of the country. Let's just say we had an 'incident' while trying to get him out of his house, and now the police are trying to figure out what happened. The area around his house is extremely dangerous right now, and we couldn't risk having to explain ourselves to the cops. We saw them coming, so we pulled off the road and ended up here."

The vixen's expression softened, with surprise and mild fear replacing her previous anger, especially when she noticed the bloodstained fur on the right side of Fox's head. "Whoa. You really did have an 'incident'. Are you going to be alright?"

"I think so," Fox replied. "All we need is a way to get to the airport without being stopped for questioning."

For a moment, the vixen nervously glanced both ways before whispering, "Be honest – do you think I'm going to be in danger if I help you out?"

Fox gritted his teeth. "I don't know. The only thing I'm concerned about is them tracking this car to your place."

"I've got a big barn where I store my farm equipment. I'm sure I could hide it there for the time being," the vixen suggested.

"That's just the thing…we've got bodies in the trunk."

The vixen stepped back in shock, then paused for thought and looked away from Fox before she collected herself and said, "I can't believe I'm saying this; but I've got a big patch of ground out in the middle of nowhere where you could bury them."

Fox's eyes softened in sympathy for the orange grove's owner. "You don't have to help us if you don't want to. If that bothers you too much, just tell us to leave and we'll figure out another way to get to the airport." Immediately after he spoke, Scarlet glared daggers at him and snarled.

Shaking her head, the farming vixen explained, "No, I think I want to help you guys out. This wouldn't be the first time I've done something like this."

"Care to explain that?"

The vixen gave him a sly grin that masked an underlying emotion of anger. "If I told you, I'd have to kill you – literally."

Fox let out an uneasy sigh, then said, "All right. Let's hurry up and deal with the car and the bodies in the trunk before someone shows up to ask about them."

* * *

 _AUTHOR'S NOTE(S):  
_

 _Sorry, Elarix - here's yet another late-night chapter._

 _Any of you who read the ill-fated_ Iridium Chronicle _should definitely recognize the orange grove's owner. As with the chapters before it, this one sort of wrote itself. I guess that could be for better or for worse; but regardless, I am having way too much fun writing this story because I don't even know what I'm going to have happen next._

 _Oh, and if it wasn't obvious enough, Krystal is definitely going to come back later. You seriously thought that I'd only give her one scene?_

 _Edit_ _: Man, I had to do some jockeying to get Krystal's fictitious website to show up without it being auto-erased. If it wasn't obvious enough, that's why the formatting on it looks strange._


	4. Escape

**Arc I: The Aquas Informant**

 _Part 4: Escape_

With the damaged limousine stored in the back of the farming vixen's enormous red barn and the bodies of their former assailants disposed of, Fox, Scarlet, and Slippy followed the grove's owner – named Silvia – back to her house. The small, white building stood roughly two hundred feet from the road that Fox had driven off of to avoid the police and looked to have been built thirty years prior to the present date. Another red barn stood to the right of it, and as the four neared the large outdoor porch that marked the front of Silvia's house, Fox noticed a large, older model SUV in the driveway.

Upon opening the front door, Silvia turned to Fox and said, "You can use the guest bathroom upstairs to clean that blood off your face. Whenever you're ready, we'll head to the airport."

Fox nodded in gratitude. "Thanks, Silvia. I can't tell you how happy I am that you offered to help us."

"I get the feeling it's the right thing to do," she replied. "Now don't make me regret it."

Following Silvia, Fox stepped into the farmhouse while Scarlet and Slippy remained outside. Judging from both of their expressions, they wanted Fox to clean himself as quickly as possible so they could leave the orange grove. Fox agreed with them. Although he appreciated Silvia's willingness to help him and his friends, he did not trust her.

The vixen pointed him in the direction of a staircase that led him to a guest bedroom that looked like it had been unused for quite some time. No noticeable decorations stood out to him as he entered the room and located the bathroom before turning on the water and washing the blood off his face. By this point, his ear had stopped bleeding. The mirror in front of him allowed him to see the extent of the wound, which to his relief looked much less catastrophic than it felt. Only the tip of his right ear was missing. He wondered if anyone would even notice it after the currently-forming scab disappeared.

With his face cleaned, he snatched a towel from a nearby hanger and wiped his fur with it, then headed downstairs where Silvia awaited him. Opening the door, the farming vixen pulled a set of keys out of her jean shorts and stepped onto the porch. Just before he followed her outside, Fox noticed a coat hanging on a pole in the nearby kitchen. The gray jacket seemed far too large for Silvia to wear, and it looked like it would have covered most of the wearer's legs. Even more oddly, he noticed a gray phoenix emblem pinned onto the front of the coat. He continued to stare at it until Silvia let out a quiet growl that seemed to say, "That's none of your business."

The four made their way to the driveway, where Silvia unlocked her SUV and said, "Get in. We'll get to the airport one way or another. Where are you taking off from? The service runway?"

"Yeah," Fox replied. "I really hope our little skirmish back at Slippy's place doesn't put us in…oh shit."

Scarlet's eyes widened. "What, Fox?"

"The limo that was actually supposed to come to Slippy's place is probably there right now. My name was on it, and they'll give it to the cops. If we don't get to the airport before that information gets distributed, we're not going to be able to leave."

"This is turning into the mission from hell," Scarlet groaned, deliberately pointing at Slippy. "And frog-boy over here still won't tell me what he knows!"

Baring her teeth, Silvia snapped, "Get in the car! You're not doing yourselves any favors by bickering!"

Fox and Scarlet shut their mouths and climbed into the SUV, with Scarlet taking the shotgun seat and leaving Fox and Slippy to take the rear. Silvia shoved her key into the ignition and turned it, only for the car to try and fail to turn over. Growling in frustration, she turned the key two more times until the engine finally sputtered to life. "I need to replace that starter," she muttered, just loudly enough for Scarlet to hear.

Pulling out of the driveway and onto the main road, Silvia headed south towards Avenura along the two-lane road that went past Slippy's trailer park. As they drove past the dingy locale, Fox glanced out his right side window and saw three police cars parked in front of Slippy's mobile, along with the limo service's SUV that he had called for earlier. The limo driver seemed to be conversing with the police.

Turning his head in Silvia's direction, he asked her, "How far is it to the airport?"

"It'll take about twenty minutes to get there," the vixen replied. "You're going to have to hurry once we arrive."

While Silvia replied to Fox, Scarlet opened the glovebox and pulled out a small submachine gun hidden underneath the registration and inspection papers. For a moment, she admired the gun, then commented, "This is a nice one. Where did you get it?"

Silvia swerved in shock and yelled, "Put that back! Didn't anyone ever teach you not to go through other people's stuff?"

"Um, no," Scarlet replied, looking confused. "I was just giving you a compliment. Is it yours?"

Silvia narrowed her eyes and quietly answered, "No. It belongs to my boyfriend…husband…unofficial mate for life. Ugh, it's complicated. Now put it back before someone sees it!"

"Sheesh, fine," Scarlet relented, sliding the gun back into the glove compartment and covering it with the other papers inside.

For the rest of the trip, Scarlet sat in silence, leaving Fox to make small talk with Slippy in the back seat. As much as she hated to admit it, she feared that Fox was attempting to recruit him. She paid little attention to their conversation, but various words such as 'skills', 'missions', 'engineering', and 'money' managed to sneak through to her ears.

" _Ugh…I don't like him. He's been nothing but deadweight so far, and Fox is already trying to recruit him. Go figure. Then again, I'm not technically part of his team, and I'm not sure I want to be. I want to be able to control my own destiny, and I can't do that if I'm part of someone else's unit."_

In time, as the rural roads gave way to dense civilization, the imposing Avenura airport came into view. After entering the carousel leading to the terminal area, Silvia pulled into the parking garage and stopped in the loading zone in front of the terminal doors. As the three mercenaries jumped out of the SUV, Silvia shouted, "Good luck, guys! Oh – and Fox, you might want to keep an eye on your girlfriend. She's trouble."

With that, she drove off, leaving Fox with his fists clenched and his face red. Seizing the opportunity, Scarlet approached him and planted a quick, mocking kiss on his cheek. Fox swung his hand at her face, but she expected it and backed away before he could slap her.

Scratching his head, Slippy asked, "Wait…You guys aren't dating?"

Fox looked for a concrete column to smash his head into, but the nearest one was over fifty feet away. So instead, he marched into the airport terminal. The lines for passenger flights stretched for over a hundred feet, but Fox ignored them. He knew that passing through the line for private aircraft would be a quick and mostly painless affair, although he began worrying about Scarlet's concealed handgun. He knew that it contained no metal parts, but he still feared that airport security would discover it.

With Scarlet and Slippy in tow, he approached the empty private aircraft security station and placed his shoes and the contents of his pockets in the provided bin before stepping into the metal detector. Several seconds later, the gray cat operating the system motioned him through and allowed him to claim his belongings. Scarlet followed him, but due to her overly tall boots, she struggled to remove them and motioned for Slippy to move in front of her. While the airport worker checked him for any metal implements, Fox cleared his throat in a tense manner and whispered, "Scarlet, we've got to go. Hurry up."

"I know, Fox," she snapped, straining to pull off her boots.

"No – behind you."

Scarlet stood up and glanced over her shoulder in time to see two police officers sprinting in their direction. _"You've got to be kidding me."_

Without waiting for her, Fox and Slippy darted out of the terminal and into a corridor that led to the boarding area. Cursing her affinity for unnecessarily tall boots with too many laces, she pulled her shoes back on and bolted through the metal detector. The feline working the machine flew into a panic and screamed, "Hey! What are you doing?"

Scarlet ignored him and rounded the distant corner into the boarding area only to find that Fox and Slippy had already opened up a significant lead on her. She watched as Fox dodged the myriad passengers in the wide hallway and shoved open a side door that read 'Airport Personnel Only.' Five seconds after Slippy vanished through the door with him, Scarlet pushed it open with her shoulder and raced down the steps on the other side. The door led outside, and over a mile of airport stretched out in front of her, with more than ten airliners and even more airport vehicles that darted in and out of areas where orange-vested airport workers tossed bags of all shapes and sizes into the airplanes. Scarlet caught up with Fox and Slippy at the bottom of the stairs and gasped for breath while trying to pose a question. "W…Where's the _Great Fox?_ "

"Over there," Fox replied, pointing towards a distant concrete pad where the massive transport ship rested. Scarlet bit her lip when she realized that over a half mile separated them from the freighter. She knew above all that speed would mean the difference between escape and incarceration – and the last thing she wanted was to end up in an Aqauasian prison.

When one of the airport workers gave the three an evil glare, Scarlet broke into a run and darted towards an empty stair car next to a thin airliner with two rear-mounted engines. The worker – an overweight mole – ran towards Scarlet in an attempt at preventing her from trespassing any farther, but she jump kicked him while running and knocked him onto his back. He sat up and tried pushing himself off the ground, but was forced back to the pavement when Slippy unintentionally barreled over him.

With the stair car hers for the taking, Scarlet looked over her shoulder and breathed a momentary sigh of relief when she saw no police officers anywhere in the vicinity. _"This just might work,"_ she told herself as she jumped into the stair car's open air driver's seat. Slippy slid into the seat to her right, while Fox climbed onto the stairs themselves and braced himself as Scarlet started the engine and throttled out of the area.

The mobile stairs crept along the concrete, refusing to move any faster than twenty miles per hour. The _Great Fox_ slowly grew in Scarlet's vision as the lumbering vehicle traversed the airport's access lanes, fortuitously clear of airplanes for the time being. Then, when escape seemed certain, she heard Fox shout, "Scarlet! We've got company!"

The vixen looked over her shoulder in time to see three airport security SUVs bearing down on them, tearing through the airfield grass in their mad pursuit. Turning her attention back to the pavement in front of her, she unzipped her jacket, yelled, "Fox! Catch!" and tossed her handgun over her head. Fox snatched the weapon out of midair, then snapped, "You expect me to shoot airport security?"

"It's either them or us!"

"I'm not going to do it, Scarlet," Fox replied over the increasing sound of the pursuing vehicles' sirens.

Baring her teeth, Scarlet ignored her uncooperative partner and set her eyes on the _Great Fox_ , now only thirty yards away. She could hear airport security closing in on her, but she pushed them out of her mind and aimed for the transport's side access door behind the cockpit. At the last possible moment, she slammed on the brakes. The stair car groaned to a stop, bumping into the side of the _Great Fox_ with the top of the stairs aligned with the side door. Without even turning off the engine, she jumped out of the driver's seat and swung herself onto the stairs.

Fox scaled the mobile staircase and pulled the side access door open, with Slippy racing up the stairs as quickly as his stubby legs would carry him. The three airport vehicles stopped behind the stair car, and five armed security officers jumped out. As Slippy reached the top of the stairs and stepped inside the transport behind Fox and Scarlet, the lead security officer aimed his handgun at him and barked, "Don't close that door! All of you, come out of there with your hands up, or we will have to use lethal force to subdue you!"

Slippy responded by shutting the door a second before the _Great Fox_ 's six engines began spooling up. The massive aircraft crept away from the security force, turning to line up with the adjacent runway at an agonizingly slow rate. Nevertheless, the security forces knew they could do nothing to stop the plane from leaving the airport apart from sacrificing themselves by driving in front of the landing gear while it tried to take off. For seconds, they stood stock-still, watching the _Great Fox_ back into position until it came to a stop.

Suddenly, the leader realized that his vehicles were too close to the jet wash coming from the _Great Fox_ 's engines. He yelled, "Move the cars!" but his words fell on deaf ears when the hulking transport increased its engine thrust and started advancing down the runway. The security force leader and his subordinates sprinted towards their cars, but it was too late. As the _Great Fox_ 's engines spooled up to their maximum thrust, the air flowing through them caught the security unit, the three SUVs, and the hapless stair car, sending them tumbling end over end down the runway.

Inside the cockpit, Fox breathed a sigh of relief as the _Great Fox's_ wheels left the pavement. For the moment, he reached for one of the plane's innumerable buttons and switched off his radio channel with the airport. He knew that the control tower would have a few choice words for him, and he had no intention of hearing them. With the airport shrinking in the distance behind the _Great Fox_ , Scarlet unbuckled her seatbelt, although she stayed in the co-pilot's seat next to Fox.

"That wasn't part of the plan," she said, rolling her eyes while working to calm her breathing.

Fox's eyebrows narrowed, and Scarlet could tell that he shared the same mindset. "That's the last time I ever take a civilian mission from General Pepper. I should have known better. I did another one of those missions a few years ago, and it ended up the same way this one did. But, the good news here is that I may have a recruit."

"Him? Really?"

Noticing Scarlet's unhappy expression, Fox replied, "Combat-ready technology and engineering experts are hard to come by. I'll admit that he's a bit strange, but I'm confident that I can work with him pretty easily. I've had much stranger people in my unit before. Plus, he's an expert helicopter pilot. I can barely even fly that gunship in the lower deck."

"I'm guessing helicopter training was the hardest part for you during the Advanced Soldier Training Program? I'll admit that I almost failed the whole course because of that. I haven't tried flying a helicopter since then, either."

"I've done it a few times, but only when no one else was available to do it and when there was no danger involved – other than the danger of me crashing, of course," Fox smirked.

Scarlet shook her head, then looked out the cockpit windows. "Where are we headed now? Back to Corneria?"

Fox shook his head. "Unfortunately, no. Because we had to do an emergency takeoff, I didn't get the chance to refuel. We've only got a third of our fuel reserves left. If you've ever looked at a map before, you'd know that Zoness sits between Corneria and Aquas; and since Zoness hates anything to do with mercenaries, they won't even let us into their airspace. To get to Aquas, we had to fly over the ocean to the south of Zoness and then go north to land in Aquas. In other words, we don't have enough fuel to make it back to Corneria going the same route."

"Where are we going, then?" Scarlet griped.

"We do have a few options, although I don't think any of them are ideal. Based on where we are, the countries on the western continent are actually going to be closer than anything in Fortuna, which is the closest thing to the east that isn't in Entitled Prick Land, otherwise known as Zoness. For obvious reasons, Macbeth and Titania are out of the question and Eledard has too many restrictions on mercenaries, which leaves us with Katina and Papetoon. We could try to stretch our fuel range and land in Fortuna, but I'm not confident that we could make it that far."

Scarlet groaned. "Ugh – I don't like either of those options."

"Do you have a problem with Katina?" asked Fox.

"Well, not really," Scarlet explained, "It's just that I've made a few enemies there that I don't want you to have to deal with because of me."

Fox smiled at the vixen. "How noble. I didn't think you had it in you. Still, I think I'd rather deal with that than land in Papetoon. My dad used to call that place Hell with plumbing and electricity that don't work half the time. I've been there once. It wasn't pretty – in both meanings of the word. Besides, we're only going to be in Katina for a few hours at most. Once we've refueled the _Great Fox_ , we'll head back to Corneria. I guess that's where we part ways again, huh?"

Scarlet's eyes softened, revealing a tinge of disappointment. "As stupid as this mission was, I enjoyed it so much more than the other jobs I pulled over the last two months. Are you doing anything after you get back to Corneria?"

Fox hung his head and replied, "Probably attend a few funerals. I'm sure my dad's going to call me at any minute to tell me when Fara's visitation is going to be. I probably made it seem like losing her and my teammates didn't affect me much, but that's not how I really felt.'

"Sorry Fox, but you're fooling yourself. You've looked miserable since we met in General Pepper's war room," said Scarlet.

"I was afraid of that," Fox sighed. "I guess it was to be expected. I thought I had become immune to those feelings after being in the mercenary business for eight years. How come you never seem to be bothered by anything?"

The vixen's eyes fell. For a moment, Fox thought he witnessed her brash, boisterous exterior wither away, revealing a delicate heart guarded by impenetrable barriers forged of cold indifference, denial, and the refusal to allow herself the slightest scrap of emotional intimacy. In a softer voice than she usually used, she answered, "I don't let myself get close enough to anyone to care about what happens to them. It's why I have no love life. I'll joke, flirt, and show myself off, but I can't go beyond that. It hurts too much."

Fox looked away from her and pressed a green button that activated the _Great Fox_ 's autopilot. Then, he stood up and moved towards the back of the cockpit, where an opened door separated them from the craft's crew quarters. Before he crossed the door's threshold, he looked at Scarlet and told her, "Stand up."

The vixen obeyed, albeit in a confused, reluctant way. She fixed her sapphire eyes on Fox and wondered why he had asked her to stand, but her thoughts fell silent when Fox stepped forward and put his arms around her. She exhaled in surprise that turned to joy and relief in mere seconds. Without thinking, she buried her muzzle under Fox's neck and breathed into his fur, allowing her fingers to work their way into Fox's back while he caressed her. Although she feared that he would react badly to it, she kissed his neck, then licked it with her tongue. To her surprise, Fox did nothing to dissuade her. For over a minute, the two foxes fondled each other until Fox patted Scarlet on the back and stepped away.

"Thank you. I needed that," Scarlet whispered.

Reaching for the back of his neck as if he had an itch to scratch, Fox replied, "I think I need to apologize for what I said in your car before we left for Aquas. I thought you were just trying to take advantage of me. I had no idea that you…"

"…Were actually miserable?" Scarlet finished.

"Yeah. I shouldn't have been so cold. Sorry about that."

Scarlet faintly shook her head. "It doesn't bother me. You're going through a hard time, so I can understand you saying things like that. I'm sorry that it seemed like I was trying to take advantage of you being single again and whatnot."

"It's fine, Scarlet. I still need a bit more time to get over what happened at Northpoint so I can start thinking clearly again," Fox replied. Then, he turned away from Scarlet and stepped out of the cockpit.

"Wait – where are you going?" she asked.

Fox answered, "We're out of Aquas airspace now. I'm going to question Slippy."

He could not see Scarlet from outside the cockpit, but he could picture the smile on her face when she commented, "I don't believe you. I think you're _really_ just leaving so you can look up that blue freak's website and jack off to her pictures."

"Not until after I get the answers from Slippy," Fox joked, although part of him feared that Scarlet would take his comment seriously. When he heard a quiet laugh from her, he smiled and walked towards the _Great Fox_ 's upper level crew quarters. Eight small, rudimentary cots stood on both sides of the aisle that contained virtually nothing else. The transport functioned as a mobile command center for Fox's unit, but it had never been designed with comfort in mind. Near the back of the aisle, Slippy sat on the edge of one of the cots, playing with his phone.

Approaching him and seating himself on the cot on the opposite side of the aisle, Fox leaned forward and said, "Alright – we're out of Aquas airspace. What's this information you have for General Pepper?"

* * *

 _AUTHOR'S NOTE(S):  
_

 _There be Easter eggs in these parts...especially if you're familiar with_ The Iridium Chronicle _. I plan to toss a few nuggets into this story here and there, although I'm aware that I've got to be careful not to overdo it. Anyway, keep an eye out for hidden treasures, because they'll be in there somewhere. I believe there's been at least one reference to something in every chapter so far._

 _Next chapter marks the beginning of Arc II! As fun as it was to write with the tropical backdrop of Aquas, I'm ready to move onto a new location with a new subplot._

 _In response to Northernmegas:_

 _Krystal is telepathic in this story, so she is well aware that Fox lied to her. I'll get into whether her people in general have the same abilities that she does in a later installment._

 _As for Falco, he's all but guaranteed to show up at some point in the story. The way I have it planned, every major character should make an appearance._


	5. The Truth Speaks

**Arc II: Darker Matters**

 _Part 1: The Truth Speaks_

Alone in the _Great Fox_ 'scargo hold with his laptop opened on a metal table near the stairs to the upper level, Fox sat back in his chair and opened a video conferencing app. A moment later, his computer screen separated into two windows. The one on the right showed General Pepper sitting in his boardroom, while the left window revealed the image of his father in a much more unpleasant location that resembled a worn down field office.

"Thanks for calling now. It's starting to get late over here," James commented. "Did you find out what the informant knows?"

Pepper spoke up. "Yes – what did he tell you?"

Giving his muzzle a quick scratch, Fox replied, "I don't know what to make of what he said. He told me that Macbeth is developing experimental weapons with the help of someone named 'Dr. Andross Bowman'. The EMP device that the East Fortunan rebels detonated in Northpoint was one of these prototype weapons, or so he said. I don't know anything about this 'Dr. Bowman'. Do either of you?"

Both James and Pepper's faces contorted into a duo of stone-faced stares that chilled Fox through his computer screen.

"Fox, Dr. Bowman died fifteen years ago," General Pepper explained, his voice full of concern. "He had been one of the Cornerian military's top researchers until an investigation into his affairs pulled up some, shall we say, unpleasant details. The findings were considered dangerous enough for him to be jailed. We would have been content to leave him in prison for life, but he somehow managed to escape. The police eventually captured him again; and this time, we made sure that he would be eliminated for good. But if what the informant said is true, it looks like that failed as well."

Fox's eyebrows narrowed. "What was he doing that got him thrown in jail, anyway? And how did killing him fail? Was the electric chair not working that day?"

"It's a disheartening story, to say the least," Pepper replied. "Without us knowing, he had been conducting inhumane physical and psychological experiments on some of his assistants. Intelligence believes that he was trying to create 'perfect species' through genetic engineering. When they raided Dr. Bowman's lab, the investigators found ten people in atrocious living conditions. Six of them had no chance of survival. None of them looked even remotely like what their Cornerian ID photos suggested. It was sickening. Out of the four that survived, only one of them managed to regain his sanity. Two of them were practically vegetables, and the one other person escaped when he was discovered."

"Shouldn't someone have seen this coming?"

Pepper shook his head in frustration. "Up until that point, Dr. Bowman was widely trusted, even though his actions had always been eccentric. The discovery of the genetically modified researchers, along with the evidence of his hand in prototyping a series of experimental chemical and genetic weapons, turned his comrades' favor against him. When his plans were discovered, he was thrown in prison. Many called for his execution – especially after his escape – but due to restrictions on the death penalty at the time, a different alternative was proposed."

"What was that?" Fox asked.

"Exile to Venom – the remote wasteland east of Titania, where there is no food, no water, no shelter, and no chance of survival. Yet, it appears that even Venom was not enough to kill him."

"…Unless he was rescued," Fox suggested. "There's nothing that would have prevented that, right?"

"The weather in Venom is usually violent and prohibitive towards aircrafts, but it is possible. However, the only way he could have possibly been extracted is if his rescuers had been aware of his location beforehand. Now though, we have to face the consequences of Dr. Bowman being alive. I have no idea what to expect from him or Macbeth. If the informant is correct – and I believe that he is – the Macbeth military is supplying prototype weapons to the East Fortuna rebels. Colonel McCloud, you would be wise to watch your step."

"Indeed," James muttered in assent.

Looking at his father's half of the screen, Fox asked, "Are you in Fortuna right now?"

"Yes. I'm in a military camp on the border separating East and West Fortuna. The offensive against the EFR forces is under way with help from the Fortuna mainland army; and as it stands now, the numbers heavily favor us. That's why I'm starting to get uncomfortable."

"What do you mean by that, Dad?"

"The rebels know that if they want to assert full control over the region, they'll have to beat us back before it becomes a war of attrition. Since the allied forces outnumber theirs three to two, time is not on their side. What worries me are these weapons they're supposedly getting from Macbeth. If Dr. Bowman is responsible for their development, who knows what to expect from them? You never know what a cornered beast will do."

Fox returned a subtle nod. "The informant also told me that the reason he knows about Dr. Bowman and the weapons is because his former mercenary unit was hired to put them in the hands of the EFR armed forces. Unfortunately, he doesn't know what kind of weapons they were, although he suspects that the EMP cannon that the rebels used at Northpoint was one of them."

Pepper frowned, leaning forward in his seat. "This uprising in East Fortuna is nothing more than a proxy that the Macbeth military is using to attack us without forcing themselves to get involved. It infuriates me – it's only a matter of time before our representatives threaten legal action against Macbeth for supplying weapons to the EFR forces; but it won't do a thing to stop them. The only way to make Macbeth pay for their actions is to crush the East Fortuna uprising and restore the power to where it belongs. War with Macbeth itself would be catastrophic even if we won, and they know that. It's how they're able to play this twisted game – betting that we won't take the bait and attack them."

"Why are they arming the rebels so they can attack us, anyway?" Fox asked, narrowing his eyes. "As far as I know, Corneria hasn't pushed into their territory or jeopardized any of their interests. They don't have a reason to attack us."

Pepper replied, "Under normal circumstances, no. But the situation in Macbeth is different. It's rooted in a conflict that's over a hundred years old."

"I never paid attention in history class," Fox admitted. "How does it affect what's going on now?"

"During the formative years of the Cornerian Republic, Macbeth was the largest empire on the planet. Their reach extended from their current territory to Katina and Titania – and as you might have guessed – across the ocean and into the eastern part of Fortuna and northern Corneria. Over time, their empire crumbled into the smaller state that it is today. Various treaties and agreements divided up their former territories, which became autonomous nations. Most of their former empire moved on after it receded, but the people of East Fortuna never truly accepted their integration into Fortuna as a whole. You see, many of them were Macbeth immigrants with strong ties to the empire. Recently, the government of Fortuna has been trying to force these loyalists to assimilate to the 'new' way of life, but they won't have it. They decided that instead of sacrificing their legacy, they would rather fight for control over East Fortuna. Now though, I'm afraid it's gone farther than that."

Fox stared intently at Pepper's face through his screen. "What do you think they're trying to do?"

"Northpoint and the countryside surrounding it were once part of Macbeth-held territory that was ceded to Corneria when the Empire of Macbeth began to fall," Pepper replied. "It is my belief that they are trying to reclaim that area for themselves as well. Knowing that Macbeth is backing them, it is possible that both parties are interested in reestablishing the old empire."

"So, it's a land grab, and Macbeth is equipping their proxies with experimental weapons to make sure it works," Fox stated.

"That's what it looks like, Fox," James replied.

Fox glanced at General Pepper's side of the screen. "General – with that in mind, is there anything else you had in mind for me to take care of? Apart from another civilian mission like this last one," he huffed.

"I do not have any direct orders for you, Fox. However, if you can find out more about the weapons, the Cornerian Army will be willing to pay you handsomely for it. What is your current location?"

"We're over the Central Ocean en route to Katina. We don't have enough fuel to make it back to Corneria, so we're stopping to refuel," Fox answered.

"Hmm…Katina is home to Anthracite Security, the informant's former employer and – as he suggested – the group responsible for distributing these weapons to the East Fortuna Rebels. If there is anything you can do about this – even if it's only as much as passing the information on to someone who can act on it – I will make sure you are rewarded for it. I'm going to leave your next action up to you."

"Thank you, sir," Fox replied.

Pepper cleared his throat, then said, "Now, with this information about Dr. Bowman, there are some things I need to attend to immediately. Thank you for your work, Fox. You are truly in a class of your own when it comes to mercenaries. Pepper out!"

The general's image vanished, and the split screen gave way to a full-screen display of James McCloud sitting behind an empty desk somewhere in Fortuna. "Fox, thanks for rescuing that informant. I know the mission came at a bad time, but you fought through it and made it happen anyway. I'm proud of you for that. On that note, are you feeling all right?"

Fox shook his head. "I'm still sad and angry about what happened at Northpoint. Losing my squad, especially Fara, Rafa, and Rena, is one of the most painful things I've ever experienced – a lot like when Mom died of cancer."

"You must have had quite a bond with your team if that's the case," James replied. "I still have yet to get over your mother's death. I want to tell you that you'll move on eventually, but I can't say that with any certainty."

Fox sighed and lowered his eyes. "Then don't. I don't expect this to heal overnight, but if I'm honest, Scarlet is helping me take my mind off of it."

"Then I would recommend spending more time with her if it's good for your mental state. I'm sure she could use the company, too. For someone as outgoing as she is, she doesn't seem to engage with many people. I know it's the last thing on your mind, but don't be afraid if things with her start becoming romantic. Whatever happens, happens – just do anything that helps you recover quicker."

Fox nodded his head. "I'll try. Do you know when Fara's funeral is going to be?"

"This coming Monday, in four days," James answered, his voice full of grief. "Nobody ever recovered her body, which theoretically means that she could have survived; but it's more likely that she was ripped apart by the blast. I'm sorry, Fox. I really am. I liked her. I thought she was a perfect fit for you."

Suppressing tears, Fox brought his hands to his eyes and wiped them. "Why do these things have to happen, Dad? First we lost Mom, and now my whole unit is dead and I have to live with it."

"The only way I can deal with losses like that is by my belief that everything will work out in the end, even if we don't understand it. It's what your mom believed; and it's how she managed to accept the reality of her own death. She used to say that the pain of this life allows us to understand the joy of the next."

"I remember her saying that, too," Fox whimpered. "I just have such a hard time believing that right now."

"I understand. When Vixy died, I was angry with everyone about it – angry at the doctors for not diagnosing her sooner, angry at God for allowing her to die, and even angry at Vixy herself for being so willing to leave us instead of fighting her illness. Now, I realize that all that time I spent being angry was a waste. Don't let it happen to you too, Fox. Learn to accept that what's past is past and move on."

"Easier said than done," Fox growled.

"I never said it would be easy," James replied. "If there's anything I can leave you with, it's this: things will work out for the ultimate good eventually. Just don't expect any of it to make sense. As I said before, don't be afraid to spend more time with Scarlet if it makes you feel better. Don't be scared of her – she won't bite…much."

A faint grin appeared on Fox's otherwise distraught face. "Alright, Dad. Take care of yourself in Fortuna. I'm guessing that you won't be at the funeral because of the military operation?"

"Sorry, Fox; but you're right. I won't be able to make it. Please give Fara's parents my regards."

"I'll do that," Fox replied. "Talk to you again later."

"Goodbye, son."

A second later, Fox's video conferencing program closed; and the computer display reverted back to the dull blue home screen. Sighing, Fox brought his hands to his face and shook his head. Then, he took a deep breath and sat back in his seat. He glanced around the cargo area to make sure that Scarlet or Slippy had not entered the space without him knowing, then opened his web browser and typed in 'web-dot-krystalmodel-dot-ele.' Part of him felt guilty for opening the web search, but his curiosity and interest in the blue vixen from the hotel in Aquas overpowered his misgivings. At the very least, he figured that looking at her pictures would help take his mind off his misery.

In seconds, the link loaded, revealing Krystal's home page, which displayed a grayscale picture of the blue vixen wearing a sheer gown and sitting on a stone wall while dipping her toes in a creek that flowed beneath it. Fox looked over the numerous tabs to the left of the picture, which read, "About Me," "Samples," "Commissions," "Contact Me," and "FAQ."

Recalling Krystal's suggestion to him back at the hotel, he clicked on "Samples" and immediately leaned closer to the screen. Likely due to her desire to persuade her website viewers to pay her for her work, the page only showed two samples. Nevertheless, Fox had no complaints about either of them.

The first picture showed Krystal sitting on a beach as the tide washed in around her. She wore a yellow bikini in the picture, and the faint smile on her face suggested that she had genuinely enjoyed her time at the beach while taking the photo. After viewing the picture, Fox found himself smiling as well. That is, until he scrolled down and saw the picture below it. As he laid eyes on Krystal's second sample, the tips of his ears started burning.

The second picture featured the blue vixen sitting with her body turned to the side and her head tilted towards the camera. The background appeared to have been edited out in favor of a depthless purple backdrop that caused Krystal's blue fur to light up by comparison. A faint glow radiated from her fur, but Fox missed the accent lighting at first glance due to Krystal's outfit – or rather, her lack of one. She sat with her right leg pulled to her chest and her left arm resting on her other leg in a way that partially covered her breasts, albeit in a way that showcased as much of her fur as possible without being salacious. For reasons that Fox could not understand, she also wore a set of blue headphones. The accessory looked out of place, but it seemed to add an intangible quality to the picture.

Then, Fox's eyes wandered to Krystal's smiling face, and then to her one closed eye that called to mind the way that she winked at him in the Aquas hotel. He moved closer to the computer screen and tried to burn the picture into his memory. The combination of its every element made him want to reach out and touch the vixen. As he fell into a blue and white trance, he imagined himself caressing Krystal while melting into her angelic smile that he thought could have seduced any man.

Suddenly, an earsplitting 'crack' shattered the quietness of the cargo area. Fox yelped, finding himself forced back into reality without being prepared for it. He tried to regain his composure, but in his panic, he fell out of his chair and onto the metal cargo floor. The impact knocked the air out of his lungs; and as he tried righting himself, he looked to his right. A pair of slender, black boots greeted his eyes a second before Scarlet's mocking laughter filled the cargo hold. Fox's face flushed red. Sitting up and looking at Scarlet, who had changed back into her 'normal' black catsuit, he noticed a whip in her right hand.

"Wow, you are ridiculous, Fox," she giggled. "Seriously? You _had_ to look her up?"

Fox frowned while trying to hide his embarrassment. "She's beautiful. You can't blame me for wanting to look at her."

"Sure… Your motives were just as pure as driven snow," Scarlet retorted, rolling her eyes.

"Oh, you're the one to say that, Miss Fetish. You're the only person I know who would deliberately change out of a comfortable set of clothes and put _that_ on instead."

Scarlet grinned and shook her head before moving towards the table where Fox's computer sat, still opened and displaying Krystal's picture. "I'll be taking this for now. I have a feeling your enterprise has restrictions on looking up porn on company computers."

"It's not porn – it's artistic!" Fox snapped, pushing himself to his feet.

In response, Scarlet bent over and wheezed in a mocking display of uproarious laughter. After a few seconds, she caught her breath and replied, "Wow. Denial much?"

"I'm not in denial," Fox growled, grabbing his computer and closing the screen. "Why are you giving me such a hard time about Krystal? It's just a few pictures that aren't even dirty. As I said at the hotel, I'm not trying to start something with her. I'm in no position for it."

"I just don't like you looking at her, okay?" Scarlet replied, placing her hands on her hips.

Fox looked to the side, then returned his eyes to Scarlet. "Fine. I just wanted to see some of her work. Don't get so defensive over something that isn't yours," he said, referring to himself.

Scarlet's face morphed into a disappointed scowl. "Fine. I originally came down here to tell you that we're thirty minutes from the airport in Golstave, Katina, but then I saw that you were…ahem…distracted. We're twenty-five minutes from the airport now."

"Thanks," Fox replied. "I'll head back up and take care of the landing. We could go back to Corneria after we refuel, but General Pepper is offering some money if we can find more information on Anthracite Security and their dealings with Macbeth, and specifically the weapons they're delivering to the East Fortuna Rebels. We're in the right place, so I figured that it might be worth a shot."

"Anthracite Security," Scarlet whispered, "I've had some run-ins with them before. If you want to look into what they've been doing, I'll be more than happy to help you. I've got a few scores to settle with them, if you know what I mean. I'm sure Slippy does too. I mean, they fired him not that long ago."

Fox brought his hand to his muzzle and stroked it. "I know their leader. He was an old friend of mine, but we had a falling out a long time ago. He hates my guts now, and he's even gone as far as making attempts at sabotaging my equipment and attacking my staff. Heck, I wouldn't be surprised if the Northpoint blast was his doing. Looks like we've all got something in common with Anthracite."

"So, are we going to look into this, or are we going to stick with our original plan?" Scarlet asked. Although she respected Fox's decision, she hoped that he would choose to look into Anthracite Security's work with Macbeth, less because of her own distaste for the mercenary outfit and more because she wanted to spend additional time with Fox.

While Scarlet looked on with a gleam of nervous anticipation in her eyes, Fox glanced towards the helicopter gunship near the back of the cargo hold. "I think I could handle spending a few days in Katina."

* * *

 _AUTHOR'S NOTE(S):  
_

Just to clarify this for anyone who didn't understand, James is a colonel with the Cornerian military in this story.

As a bit of a bonus, the last two pictures on Krystal's website are references to actual Krystal fan art. The Deviantart links to both of them are at the bottom of my profile page, although you'll have to piece together the links thanks to 's recent elimination of the ability to link to most things on profile pages.


	6. The Lotus Eater

**Arc II: Darker Matters**

 _Part 2: The Lotus Eater_

As he, Scarlet, and Slippy stepped through the front doors of the Golstave regional airport in southern Katina, Fox had the feeling that he would be seeing more airports than he wanted to in the near future. Thanks to the change in times zones, the digital smartwatch on his wrist indicated a time of 1:32 PM, which would provide him and his two traveling companions with at least half of the day to draw up their plans for investigating Anthracite Security. Of the three, Slippy seemed the most eager to move forward with the admittedly vague option that General Pepper had provided Fox with. He said nothing about it, but Fox had the feeling that he would have preferred no one to know that he had ever been part of Anthracite to begin with.

The surroundings outside the airport reminded Fox of Golstave's position just below the planet's equator. The city itself stood in the middle of a sizeable river delta region close to the Central Ocean, and the punishing heat and sweltering humidity caused both Fox and Scarlet to curse their vulpine inability to sweat. On the other hand, Slippy relished the weather. The architecture surrounding the airport constituted a bizarre mix of modern buildings erected alongside – and sometimes overtop of – older stone structures. Like in Aquas, numerous palm trees rustled in the humid breeze, although the atmosphere in Golstave hinted at the city's financial heartbeat as opposed to Aquas's tourist-based infrastructure.

Knowing that their stay in Katina would likely be more protracted than their tenure in Aquas, Fox arranged for a rental car upon arriving, although he had no idea where the three of them would lodge. Scarlet assured him that she knew of a good place where their personal information would be less vulnerable than it was on Aquas, but Fox still hesitated to trust her.

While they approached the line of rental cars inside the covered parking garage, Fox glanced at Scarlet and said, "I like the idea of making more money, but I don't have any leads on Anthracite. Slippy knows where their facilities are, but that's not much good if we can't find out what's inside. The important thing is that we find out what kind of weapons Macbeth is sending to the East Fortuna Rebels. Got any ideas? You used to work around here, so you obviously know more about this place than I do."

Scarlet pulled the rental car keys out of her catsuit's waist pocket and pressed the unlock button, causing the lights on a black sedan near the back of the parking garage to flash. "There's a team that I ran into a few times while I was working in this area. They're intel specialists, and they seem to have details on nearly every mercenary operation in the area. In fact, I heard that several of the PMCs spread throughout Katina have been going to extreme lengths to make sure that their files aren't pilfered by them."

"I hope they haven't been going through mine," Fox grumbled. "Do you think this team can help us?"

"If we're willing to split the earnings if it goes somewhere, maybe," Scarlet answered. "The problem is that these guys never show up when you want them to. They might as well not exist at all under normal circumstances. That, and I doubt they have any more information about Anthracite than Slippy does; and he's already told us almost everything he knows about them."

Fox nodded and opened the rental car's passenger side door while Scarlet climbed into the driver's seat, with Slippy taking the back for himself. "Let me go over that information again to make sure I got it – Anthracite's main base is located in a remote area outside the city near a large lake that powers their facility, and the base is large enough that it has its own landing strip inside the complex walls."

"Right," Slippy replied. "Part of the reason Macbeth is using Anthracite is because they have enough airplanes to function as a shipping company if they need to. The weapons are shipped from Macbeth to Anthracite using Anthracite's cargo planes, then after the cargo is processed, the same planes leave for their destination from the main base. The government of Macbeth set it up so it looks like Anthracite is supplying the rebels, but everyone knows the truth about it. From how I remember it, Anthracite actually purchases the weapons from Macbeth under the condition that Macbeth will compensate them for it after the weapons are delivered. Although it's obvious that Macbeth is orchestrating the whole thing, giving ownership of their weapons to Anthracite gives them a tiny bit of plausible deniability that they hope is enough to keep them out of international trouble."

While Scarlet started the car and pulled out of the parking garage, Fox looked over his shoulder into the back seat and suggested, "If we could somehow get into the base, we might be able to do something about those weapons, or at least find out what they are."

To Fox's surprise, Slippy shook his head. "It's not that simple, Fox. This isn't a video game. The entire base is equipped with specialized biometric security equipment, and the weapons themselves are stored in a warehouse that can only be opened by the boss and his two officers. In other words, if you aren't one of them, you're not getting anywhere in that base."

Fox frowned, then narrowed his eyes. "You're pretty good with technology. Did you have a hand in designing the security systems, by any chance?"

"Well, yeah…but they're bound to have changed some things after they kicked me out," Slippy retorted. "I know what you're going to ask, Fox. You want to know if I can circumvent the systems somehow. The answer is…maybe. But there's a huge risk involved. At any rate, I don't think the three of us have a chance of getting into that base and accomplishing anything. And if we were able to get into the warehouse where the weapons are kept, what would we do then? It would be stupid to just start going through the containers; and if we destroyed them, we'd bring the whole base down with us or end up dead anyway."

For a moment, Fox looked away from Slippy and glanced out his window as Scarlet pulled onto a swarming interstate outside the airport. Then, he said, "I think the real goal here is to prevent more of these weapons from reaching the EFR forces. It would be good to know what it is we're dealing with, but if the weapons never get to Fortuna, they're not going to do a lot of good."

Scarlet glanced at Fox with her peripheral vision. "Sabotage might be a good option here. If the planes can't take off, the weapons can't make it to Fortuna."

"That could keep them from moving the weapons for a little while, but it's not a permanent solution. Really, the only way to stop this is to either cut the weapons off at the assembly line or hope that West Fortuna takes back their land," Slippy replied.

Fox scratched his head in thought. "Slippy, do you know where Anthracite takes the weapons after they leave the base?"

"I never found that out," Slippy answered. "Somehow, I doubt Anthracite is flying directly into East Fortuna. If that was the case, the navy would be moving into position to blockade Fortuna's east coast. Those planes wouldn't stand a chance. If I was the person responsible for making sure these weapons made it into the rebels' hands, I would send the planes to a place where no one would bother to look for them, and then I'd have the weapons shipped into Fortuna from there."

"You might be on to something," Scarlet suggested. "Instead of trying to get into the warehouse where the weapons are kept, maybe we should try to find where they're being shipped before they make it to Fortuna. If we can find the delivery point, it might allow us – or the West Fortunan Army, probably – to put a stop to the weapons trafficking."

Fox looked over his shoulder at Slippy. "Sounds like something you'd be good at."

"I might be able to figure something out," he replied. "It'll probably take a few days before I can tell you what needs to happen, though. That's not going to be a problem, is it?"

Scarlet gave Fox a playful look. "Not for me. I'm sure Fox and I will find plenty of things to keep us occupied while you look into it."

In response, Fox shook his head and muttered, "You make everything sound dirty."

"No, you just take everything I say out of context," Scarlet grinned.

"I'm not so sure about that."

" _They are hopelessly in love,"_ Slippy thought.

* * *

 _-_ § _-_

* * *

After a thirty minute drive to the north part of the city, Scarlet pulled the rental car into the parking lot in front of a sprawling motel complex that looked somewhat suspicious to Fox's eyes. Three buildings with three floors each made up the establishment, built on twenty acres of land just off an avenue that featured seemingly innumerable casinos, lounges, and strip clubs. The buildings' stone fascia attempted to present an upscale appearance, but Fox felt that something was not right.

Parking the car, Scarlet announced, "This is it – the Lotus Eater Motel. In other words, the perfect place for people like us to spend a few days without having to give out unnecessary personal information. All you need here is a name – even if it's not your actual name – and a phone number. I gave them my mom's old fax the last time I stayed here. They never call anyone unless it's the end of the world – and that hasn't happened yet.

Fox cocked his head and glared at the building in front of them with a wary eye. "Who stays at a place like this? Besides us."

Scarlet returned a devious grin. "This place was built to take advantage of the local nightlife. It's not in the brochure, but it was more or less intended to be the ideal place to have a one night stand. Don't let that turn you off, though. It's actually a nice place."

"The sheets had better be clean," Fox grumbled.

Scarlet gave him a dismissive wave. "They're clean enough. Seriously – this place would lose its spot as the number one motel in the area if it didn't keep up a decent image."

If being the number one motel to have a one night stand in gives it a decent image, then something is seriously wrong."

"Oh, lighten up Fox – don't be such a prude," the vixen chided, glancing over her shoulder at Slippy, who shook his head and sighed. "Come on – let's get our rooms. They're all small and only have one bed each, so we'll all have to get our own unless you're feeling adventurous and want to snuggle up to me. Or, you could share a bed with Frog-Boy, although I'm not sure that he's actually a guy."

Slippy's eyes bulged out in rage. "Hey!"

"I think I'd prefer to have my own room," Fox replied, giving Scarlet a disapproving glance.

Disappointment laced Scarlet's voice. "Fine. Have it your way, then."

The three stepped into the motel lobby, built into the bottom floor of the main building in the three-structure complex. The interior lacked much of the charm of the Sandbar hotel in Aqaus; and like the outside, Fox still felt that something was wrong about all of it. Walking up to the counter, Scarlet slapped her hands on the linoleum surface, startling the fragile-looking gray tabby woman behind the desk.

The feline's eyes flew open, but she calmed herself in time to ask, "C…Can I help you?"

"We all need our own rooms," Scarlet replied. "What do you have?"

The receptionist looked at the computer screen in front of her and sighed, "We're pretty booked up right now. We do have three rooms, but only two in this building. The other room is in the 'C' building, which um…" She paused, then looked around like Big Brother was watching her every movement. "Don't tell management, but the 'C' building is a dump."

Scarlet smirked at Fox. He knew exactly what she was thinking. With her most seductive voice, she purred, "Well Fox, looks like you have a few options here. You can either room with the hot vixen who has some…shall we say…'needs', you can stay with Nerd-Boy and be kept awake all night while he plays his MMO, or you can stay by your own lonely self in the crappy 'C' building. Your choice."

Slippy gave Scarlet a hateful glare, but nevertheless, he told Fox, "Honestly, this isn't a hard decision. Well, it could be a hard decision, depending on what you mean by 'hard'."

Fox's face assumed a deadpan expression. "You went there. I'm so proud of you, Slippy."

"Aw, thanks Fox," Slippy grinned.

Fox bit his lip. Then, he looked at the receptionist and muttered, "We'll take the two rooms in this building. Put it all under my name if you can."

"Alright, sir. What's your name and phone number?"

Fox stroked his muzzle, then replied, "John Fox. 7273-9968."

The receptionist entered the information into her computer, then handed two room keys to Fox. "That should do it. Rooms are paid by the day. You can keep it indefinitely as long as you pay the 60 KAT room fee before noon for every day that you want to stay here."

"That's great," Fox replied, handing one of the key cards to Slippy and raising the other one to eye level.

Turning to Scarlet, he noted the number '213' on the card and said, "Looks like it's on the second floor. Slippy, what number is yours?"

"214. We're right next to each other. Don't make too much noise tonight – you'll distract me while I'm playing my MMO," Slippy chuckled, giving Scarlet the evil eye.

Scarlet's face lit up in a devious smile. "Roger that. I'll make sure to moan as loudly as possible."

Fox shook his head in exasperation, but part of him feared that she was only partially joking about having 'needs' that involved him. Although he disliked the idea of renting the room in the less desirable 'C' building, he wondered if he had made a poor choice by choosing to split a room with Scarlet. _"Well, I suppose I could sleep on the floor if the worst comes to the worst."_

After climbing the short flight of stairs to the second level, Fox, Scarlet, and Slippy arrived at their rooms. While readying his key card, Slippy said, "I'll get right to work trying to pull up as much as I can about Anthracite. Anything you can do to help me would be appreciated."

Fox nodded, and although he expected Scarlet to make a snide remark about Slippy and his methods, she merely replied, "Will do," perhaps showing that her commitment to their tentative goal overruled her innate desire to banter with her traveling companions. While Slippy disappeared into his room and closed the door, Fox opened room 213 and stepped inside. Dropping his two bags on the dresser that stood on the left side of the room, he took stock of the amenities that his home away from home featured. An outdated flatscreen television sat on the black dresser that looked like it had been pulled from a salvage yard, while a single queen-sized bed occupied most of the other side of the room. Fortunately for him, the room looked and smelled clean enough, although it was nowhere even close to luxury. The balcony at the back of the room looked over a parking lot with two large dumpsters, which caused him to wonder why the motel had even bothered to add balconies.

Setting her bags on the dresser next to Fox, Scarlet asked, "So, what are you doing?"

"I thought I'd try to find a gun shop and pick up some ammo for us since Customs wouldn't let us bring bullets with us. I hope we don't actually need ammo, but you never know, right?"

"It's always a good idea," Scarlet replied.

"What are _you_ going to do while we wait for Slippy to pull up some information?"

Scarlet responded by facing Fox and pulling down on her catsuit's zipper until it reached the tops of her breasts. "I'm taking a bath. Care to join me?"

A flash of red appeared on Fox's face. Scratching the back of his neck, he replied, "As good as that sounds, I've got more important things to take care of."

"Fine. Suit yourself," said Scarlet, stepping into the bathroom and turning on both the light and the water for the bathtub.

Fox shook his head, swiped Scarlet's car keys off the dresser, and checked his pockets to make sure that he had his key card with him. Then, he stepped out of the room and closed the door behind him, giving Slippy's adjacent door a quick glance before his thoughts returned to Scarlet. _"She's something else. I can't think of anybody who would be that open about something like that – not even Fara after we got engaged. Either she's completely shameless, or she desperately wants me to love her. Or both."_

He took a deep breath, then descended the stairs to the ground floor and walked out of the hotel to the parking lot, where the black rental car awaited him. Sliding into the driver's seat and turning on the ignition, he pulled out of the parking lot and began his search for a place that sold ammunition. He knew about Katina's relatively relaxed gun laws and anticipated little difficulty in finding 9mm bullets for the handguns that he and Scarlet used. Still, the area around him resisted him in his search, forcing him to drive into the city's less crowded West district, where he located a small, hole-in-the-wall gun shop with metal bars over the windows and a dull neon 'OPEN' sign above the door.

The parking lot in front of the shopping center that contained that gun shop was filled with over a hundred vehicles, but he managed to locate two open spots relatively close to the shop itself. He parked the rental car in one of them, then reached for the car door. But, as soon as his fingers touched the chrome-covered plastic handle, his phone chirped. Digging into his pocket with his free hand, he extracted it and glanced at the screen. _"Slippy? He's found something already?"_

He pressed the green 'answer' button on his screen and put the phone up to his ear. "Slippy? What is it?"

He expected to hear triumph in Slippy's voice, but the grim, frightened concern that echoed through his phone's speakers put his initial assumption to rest immediately. "Fox – Scarlet's missing. Something is seriously wrong here."

Fox's heart skipped a beat. "What? How do you know? What happened?"

"Well, I was listening to my hacking setlist through my headphones when I heard a thump and a scream through the wall behind me. At first, I thought it was just part of the dubstep song I had on at the time, but then I got suspicious and rewound the song to make sure I wasn't just hearing things. Well, when I listened to it again, I didn't hear any screaming. That's when I realized something was wrong and tried to get into your room. The door was locked, so I called for both of you and didn't hear anything. Where are you, anyway?"

"In front of a gun shop twenty minutes from the hotel," Fox replied. "Are you sure Scarlet didn't accidentally knock herself out or something? It wouldn't be out of character for her to do that."

"No, Fox, I'm positive that she's gone. When you didn't answer your door, I went back to my room to look for something to cheat the lock. I got into your room after five minutes and didn't find Scarlet inside."

"Did you check the bathroom?" Fox asked, uncertainty in his voice.

"That's the craziest part," Slippy explained. "The bathtub was full of water, Scarlet's clothes were next to it, and there were water spots all over the carpet in the bedroom area. It doesn't make any sense. Everything else you had in the room was still there – your suitcase, your computer bag, Scarlet's room key…I don't get it. You need to get back here as soon as possible. Didn't Scarlet say something about her having some enemies in Katina?"

"Are you suggesting that she was kidnapped?"

"What else could it be, Fox? This is crazy! Get back here!"

Fox struggled to remain calm in the face of his growing fears over Scarlet's safety. "Okay, okay. Let me pick up a few mags first, and then I'll come back to the hotel. If anything even remotely suspicious happens before I get there, call me immediately."

"Will do, Fox."

As he ended the call and shoved his phone back into his pocket, Fox felt a pit forming in his stomach. As much as he feared for Scarlet, he held an even greater fear of what would have happened if he had stayed in the room with her. Walking up to the gun shop's front door, he wondered, _"If Scarlet was kidnapped, someone had to know where we were staying. But how? We had only been in the motel for ten minutes! If someone was following us the whole time, I'm sure I would have seen it. And why did Slippy get off scot-free? If whoever took her was following us, why didn't they go after him, too?"_

" _I'd better tell Slippy that I'm not coming back to the hotel. It's too dangerous."_

His ears picked up the sound of a vehicle behind him. Turning his head to look for the source of the noise, he watched a black, late-model van pull into the parking space next to his car. Then, he stepped into the gun shop and approached the counter, where he asked for a tackle box-sized metal case filled with handgun ammunition. Feeling concerned that someone may have been tracking him, he pulled out his wallet and sorted through his paper currency before handing several one hundred credit notes to the cashier at the counter.

For obvious weight reasons, the ammo crate refused to cooperate with the store's plastic bags, forcing Fox to wave off the cashier and simply carry it out under his arm even though he knew how suspicious it looked. His feet neared the exit door, but then his phone chirped again. Setting the crate on the floor, he fished his phone out of his pocket and glanced at the screen. Slippy again.

Frustrated and afraid for Scarlet's sake, he raised the phone to his lips and barked, "What is it, Slippy?"

"F…Fox – they're trying to get into my room! I don't have anything to defend myself with! What am I supposed to…oh no! They forced the door! Heeeeeelp!"

After that point, Slippy's voice cut out; and through the phone line, Fox heard what he thought sounded like Slippy's phone hitting the ground. However, the call remained active, allowing him to overhear Slippy's panicked shouting, which came to an abrupt halt mere seconds later. Cupping the phone in his hand and holding it as close to his ear as possible, Fox heard boots approaching Slippy's phone, followed by a baritone voice that said, "Take the phone – we'll need that too."

Fox opened his mouth to yell at Slippy's aggressors, but the call ended before he could say anything. Locked in disbelief, he pulled his phone away from his ear and stared at the display, which had already returned to the home screen. Multiple expletives spewed from his lips as he shoved the exit door open and stomped towards his rental car. By this point, he could have cared less about what anyone else thought of him carrying a green metal tub of ammunition through the parking lot.

He walked around the back of the black van parked next to his car and reached into his pocket, feeling around for his car keys while his left arm struggled to hold onto the heavy ammo crate. The numerous contents inside his pocket prevented him from gripping the keys; and in a fit of rage, he ripped his hand out of the pocket and sent the keys, his wallet, and a few loose bills flying. He cursed again and set the ammo crate on the pavement next to his car, then scanned the nearby pavement for the keys and his wallet. Much to his relief, the two items came to rest next to the front wheel well. He bent down to pick up his valuables, then finally managed to press the button to unlock his car. Turning around to retrieve his ammo, he came face to face with a husky wearing black and gray BDUs that featured a camouflage pattern. With his keys and wallet still held his hands, he stood no chance against the canine, who brandished a Taser and fired it at him from point blank range.

The searing jolt of electricity sent Fox's muscles into a spasm, and he fell to the ground in a twitching heap. His mind swam, the pain from the electric shock preventing him from thinking clearly as he felt himself being hefted off the ground.

With his target secured, the black-garbed husky opened the van's sliding side door and tossed Fox inside. Then, he slammed it shut and collected Fox's valuables, starting with his keys and wallet and finally the ammo crate near the back of Fox's rental car.

* * *

 _AUTHOR'S NOTE(S):  
_

 _This was the first chapter I really struggled with in this story, but after I got it going, it seemed to just write itself, kind of like all the others so far. Fox's furious key and wallet-flinging outburst was more or less inspired by one of my own unfortunate flaws that shows up from time to time. I guess keys getting stuck in my pockets is one of my hot buttons.  
_


	7. Black as Onyx

**Arc II: Darker Matters**

 _Part 3: Black as Onyx_

For thirty minutes, all Fox felt were the cuffs around his hands, the black cloth over his head, and traces of the electric shock from earlier. The van's suspension vibrated beneath him, occasionally jolting his ribs as he lay on the floor behind the front seat. He focused his ears on the driver, but heard nothing from him or the person in the passenger seat, if there was such a person. For all he knew, the husky could have been the only individual in the van apart from him.

Then, the van slowed and turned off the road. The vehicle came to a complete stop a moment later; and as the driver shifted the van into park, Fox heard the sound of a garage door closing behind him. The side door slid open, and he felt a pair of furry hands reaching for the cloth that covered his head. Removing the blindfold, his captor pulled him out of the van and allowed him a few seconds to catch his balance. Fox wanted nothing more than to punish the husky for kidnapping him, but the cuffs around his wrist prevented him from acting on his desires. Still, he did consider fighting him with both of his hands literally tied behind his back.

Instead, he focused his eyes on his surroundings, which amounted to a dark, run-down complex that looked like it had been part of an automobile manufacturing facility at one point. Tens of lifeless, dust-covered machines lined rusted rails that had not moved in two decades. Flickering fluorescent bars cast a dismal amount of light into the otherwise black space that smelled of filthy water and oil. Every few seconds, water would drip from the ceiling, falling into a bucket on the floor below with a faint splash.

"What is this place?" Fox growled, locking eyes with the husky.

"Our hideout for now," the canine replied. "We never keep the same address for more than a week."

Having assumed that one of Anthracite's agents had abducted him, Fox took a step back in surprise and asked, "Who are you with?"

"If you were expecting me to be part of a massive operation, you'd be wrong. It's just me and two other guys. We used to have two more, but…well…"

"They died, didn't they?" Fox whispered.

The husky frowned. "Yes – both of them are no longer with us. One of them was killed in a blast, and the other…well…he just vanished. Never was quite right in the head, that one. Anyway, we call ourselves Onyx – not to be confused with Anthracite, since both of them are synonyms for 'black'. This place seems to fit our title."

Fox glanced at one of the machines on the assembly line. "Why did you bring me here? Why shoot me with a Taser and throw me into a van if you're not with Anthracite?"

The husky held up two fingers less than two millimeters away from each other. "It's because Anthracite was this close to nabbing you, and we weren't about to let that happen. You see, your success is our priority for right now."

Fox raised his eyebrows. "Say what?"

"We've been keeping tabs on you since the Northpoint incident. Your interest in Anthracite's dealings with the East Fortunan rebels managed to attract the attention of the Mac-Central intelligence agency, and in the process, it allowed us to gather some information on one of their spies."

"Just one of them? Is he that important?"

"Actually, it's a 'she'," the husky corrected. "She goes by the name 'Cassandra', and she's believed to have unusual abilities that would make her an enormous asset to any group that she was a part of. You managed to get her attention by rescuing your amphibious friend from Aquas, and we think that she may be after you even now."

Fox narrowed his eyes. "I thought you said Anthracite was after me. Why is this spy from Macbeth trying to hunt me down too?"

"Simple. Anthracite and the Macbeth government are cooperating on the East Fortuna weapons trafficking operation. Any information Cassandra gathers on Anthracite's interests gets sent to them by default. We believe that's how Anthracite managed to locate you in the first place."

"But how could they track me that perfectly after I'd only been in Golstave for thirty minutes?"

The canine opened his hand and turned it towards Fox. "Well, let me ask you this – did you give out any sensitive personal information over the phone or the internet to someone you didn't know? Have you visited any suspicious websites recently?"

Krystal's suggestive photographs crept back into his mind, even though he found nothing inherently suspicious about her website. "Maybe?" he replied, scratching his head. "I met a model in Aquas who suggested I look up her website, and I did that later. Other than that, I can't think of anything that could have possibly compromised my information. I keep that on a tight leash."

"Perhaps not tightly enough," the husky implied. "Anthracite broke into your room like they were absolutely certain that you were inside. It sounds to me like someone managed to access your computer's GPS location, which makes me almost positive that the website you visited was bugged by someone with ties to either Macbeth or Anthracite – possibly both. If you don't mind me asking, what did this model you met in Aquas look like?"

Crossing his arms, Fox described Krystal's appearance. "She had blue and white fur. That was the first thing I noticed about her. Very unusual. She was about my height, wore a purple dress, and had a really thick tail. Oh, and she also spoke with an accent – kind of like a Zoness accent, but not quite as thick."

The husky nodded. "I'll make a note of all that. Interestingly, we're already on the trail of someone who looks like what you described. It's only a matter of time before we catch up with her."

In response, Fox blurted out, "Please, don't hurt her," then felt shocked that he had responded that way.

His captor's eyes widened. "You know, there's a high percentage chance that she _is_ Cassandra. I wouldn't put it past her to have been responsible for killing your team at Northpoint, at least in part. Don't let a person's looks deceive you. They can be sweet on the outside and even make you feel loved, and then turn and ram a knife into your back when you're not looking."

"You've got a point," Fox admitted. "What do you plan to do if you catch this 'Cassandra' person?"

"Use her to get more information on her superiors. Chances are that Cassandra is a low-level spy, but I guarantee she knows some of the higher-ups. If we can get closer to them, we'll be that much closer to our ultimate goal."

"Which is?" Fox asked.

"A former Cornerian scientist named Andross Bowman. The guy is inscrutable. Nothing about him ever gets out. We know he's doing something for Macbeth, but no one seems to know exactly what."

Fox locked eyes with the husky and told him, "He's developing weapons for them."

The Onyx soldier gave Fox a surprised stare. "You know about that?"

"My teammate told me," Fox replied.

"That's great, but there's got to be more to it than just the weapons. At heart, Andross is a biologist. He's got experience in engineering and chemistry, but life sciences were always his thing. And that's why I'm almost wondering if his work in developing weapons for the Macbeth military is just a cover for what he's really up to. But no one seems to know about it."

Fox recalled General Pepper telling him something about Andross attempting to create 'perfect species', but he felt that the hound dog would have preferred him to keep that knowledge to himself, especially since he had few reasons to trust the man from a unit that he had been completely unaware of until a minute ago. Somewhat disingenuously, he replied, "Well, if I find anything else about him, I'll let you know."

"Hmm. I'm sure you will," the canine smirked, knowing that Fox had no intention of doing that.

The silence inside the abandoned factory came to an end as a garage door opened. Turning his head towards the area where the husky had parked the black van, Fox watched as an identical vehicle pulled into the space next to it. After the engine came to a halt, a slender cheetah and a massive Alsatian climbed out of the two front seats and opened the sliding back door. Fox stood in shock at the beast's enormous physique. He looked like he could have reached 6'10" in terms of height, and Fox could hardly fathom how much he must have weighed. The canine reached into the rear storage area; and Fox held his breath while waiting to see who the second and third members of Onyx had abducted. As much as he liked Slippy, he admitted to himself that he hoped Scarlet would emerge from the van.

To his disappointment, it was Slippy.

The husky standing next to Fox stepped behind him and unlocked his handcuffs, then walked towards the second van and motioned for Fox to follow him. While the hulking shepherd dog set Slippy down and pulled the cloth from over his head, Fox asked the husky, "Did you get anyone else, like a red vixen? She was in my room before I left."

The husky stopped and shook his head. "Sorry, pal. If she was in there, Anthracite probably got to her first."

Fox bared his teeth. "What do you think they did with her?"

"It all depends. There are a few things that they might have done. They were after you, so if they broke into your room and didn't find you in it, they might have decided to take her instead."

"What does that mean for her?" Fox demanded.

"Well, I'd either expect them to put a ransom on her or just kill her outright. Or, if she's really good looking…well…"

Burning with anger and disgust, Fox snarled, "Oh, they'd better not… Then again, she might actually enjoy that."

The husky raised his eyebrows. "That sounds like someone I used to know. Was her name Scarlet, by any chance?"

Fox's face lit up. "How do you know her?"

In response, the canine gave him a nervous grin. "I'll tell you about it later, but for right now, head over to that table and meet the rest of the team. We've got some things to discuss with you and your friend."

Fox followed his captor to a rusting metal lunch table in the corner of the garage area. The two other Onyx members seated themselves with their backs to the cinder block wall next to Slippy, leaving the other bench for Fox and the husky.

"I apologize for how you got here. I would have preferred just asking you to come with us, but I had the feeling you'd ask too many questions or put up resistance," said the husky. "I'm Hartmann, the leader of this team." He pointed to the massive Alsatian next to Slippy and explained, "He's Vincent, and the cheetah next to him is Xavier. Together, we exist to keep a watchful eye on mercenary activities throughout the planet Lylat."

Fox turned his head and asked Hartmann, "Are you an NGO, or are you with an intelligence group?"

"There's not a clear answer for that. The best way I can explain it is this – we sell secrets, specifically ones related to the many PMCs that operate in the planet's more 'turbulent' areas. Keeping tabs on mercenary operations allows us to subliminally influence world affairs, since most PMCs are contracted by governments. Sometimes our work leads us into the employment of smaller Third World dictatorships like Ichtos, and other times we sell our information to the superpowers. Everything we do is based on our own concept of justice – we rarely sell out to the highest bidder. We like to think it's for the better."

"Unfortunately," he continued, "Our history of being willing to work for pretty much anybody we want to has put us into a dangerous spot. When a government intelligence agency that we just worked with finds out that we sold one of their contacts' information to their enemies, things can get deadly. That's why we never keep the same base of operations for more than a week. We're nomads, but we wouldn't have it any other way."

Fox nodded in the most insincere way possible and commented, "I feel so safe right now."

Hartmann frowned. "You should. We've been doing this for seven years, and we haven't been caught yet."

From across the table, the enormous shepherd growled, "Captain, get on with the real reason we're here already."

"Sorry, Vincent. He asked me, so I had to explain," Hartmann answered, waving his comrade off. "Anyway, part of the reason we abducted both of you was not only to save you from Anthracite, but also because your goals line up perfectly with ours. We believe the collusion between Macbeth and Anthracite is far more sinister than anyone originally thought, and it's reaching a boiling point. Here – take a look at this. Xavier, hand me your computer."

The cheetah sitting across from him reached into a black bag on the ground and produced a white laptop, which he handed to Hartmann. Opening the screen, the husky turned the computer in Fox's direction and pointed at one corner of the grainy, black and white image on the display.

Fox's eyes widened. "A stash of chemical weapons?"

Nodding, Hartmann replied, "That photograph was taken from inside Anthracite Security's storehouse with one of the base's security cameras. Thanks to Xavier, we now have an idea of what they're shipping to East Fortuna. But the real question here is 'why'?"

Fox's eyes wandered into space, and his mind recalled his father's concerned statement from earlier.

"… _As it stands now, the numbers heavily favor us. That's why I'm starting to get uncomfortable."_

Hartmann's voice brought Fox's attention back to the present. "I'm concerned that the East Fortunan forces may already have some of these weapons in their possession. But even if they do, they can't be allowed to get any more of them. The only problem is that we don't have enough evidence to prove the existence of the weapons to West Fortuna or Corneria. All we have is this grainy picture, and it's still kind of ambiguous as to what the weapons even are. It's likely that they are in fact chemical, but no one can know for sure until we have more leads. But we don't have the time for that."

"So, what are you suggesting?" Fox asked.

"We have to do one of two things. One – either we find a way to keep Anthracite's cargo planes from taking off and delivering the cargo, or two – we place a tracker on one of the planes to see where it goes. From all accounts, no one knows where they're delivering the weapons. The Cornerian Navy is patrolling the Eastern Ocean in hopes that they'll spot the cargo planes, but as far as I know, nothing's shown up yet. I have a strong suspicion that they're not delivering the weapons to Fortuna. The only three major landmasses that can be accessed from the western continent are Fortuna, Corneria, and Fichina. I'm banking on Fichina as the delivery location. There's nothing on the eastern part of the landmass. It's a huge island north of Fortuna, and because of the ice sheets, the Navy's warships can't get close to it."

Fox nodded to Slippy as a way of congratulating him for coming to a similar conclusion beforehand, then asked Hartmann, "How are we supposed to stop the planes or put trackers on them? Infiltrate the base?"

"I don't see another way to do it, especially if you want any chance at getting your friend back."

Vincent sneered, "Are you kidding me? When did you ever care so much about rescuing a hostage – especially if it's going to put us all in that much danger?"

Hartmann narrowed his eyes and pointed at his teammate. "The difference here is that I owe this hostage a favor."

Xavier rolled his eyes and rested his chin on his hand. "This has to do with that one time last year when you met that girl at the casino, disappeared into the Lotus Eater motel for the whole night, and refused to answer any of our calls, doesn't it?"

Hartmann blushed furiously. "Yes. It does."

"I'm going to have to hear about this," said Fox.

"Later," Hartmann replied once again. "Can we just put that aside for a moment and focus on what needs to be done with the weapons?"

"Sure," Xavier mocked, then whispered to Vincent, _"He needs to think with his_ other _head for once."_

Vincent shook his head. _"Tell me about it."_

"Shut up, you two," Hartmann frowned. "We need to go over every schematic of the Anthracite base so we can plan our infiltration."

For the first time, Slippy spoke up. "Ooh! An infiltration! I've always wanted to be part of one of those."

Xavier glared at him evilly. "The only thing you'll be infiltrating is the refrigerator in the back room, Fatty."

Slippy bared his gums, because as a frog, he had no teeth – at least, not unless one looked closely enough. "Seriously, you wouldn't like me when I'm angry."

"Oh, is that so? Are you going to get even fatter and then Toad Smash me?" Xavier laughed.

At that moment, Slippy's face took on a malevolent property that Fox never thought he would see from him. Considering that Xavier was in the seat next to him, Slippy grabbed his collar and yanked him off the bench. Stunned, Xavier hit the concrete floor behind him and tried sitting up, but not quickly enough to prevent Slippy from leaping off the bench and onto his stomach.

"How do you like me now?" he shouted, punching the feline in the muzzle with both fists so rapidly that his arms almost resembled blurs. His continued attacks prevented Xavier from responding, but it didn't seem to prevent Slippy from demanding that Xavier answer his question. Suddenly, Slippy felt like he could fly. With no effort whatsoever, he ascended into the air. But then, he realized what had actually happened as he turned around against his own will and found himself staring into Vincent's angry green eyes while being held up by his jacket's collar.

He thrashed his limbs, but Vincent held him far enough away from his body to prevent him from injuring anything but himself. From Fox's perspective, Slippy looked like a baby compared to the enormous shepherd, and his attempts to escape the canine's grasp were equally pathetic. Despite his best efforts, Fox burst out laughing along with Hartmann, who slapped the table and chuckled so violently that Fox thought he might cry.

Vincent failed to see anything funny about Slippy's actions. After a moment, he set him down, but not before showing his teeth and letting out his disapproval with a feral snarl. While Slippy shuffled over to Fox, Xavier brushed himself off and reclaimed his seat. "Dammit! He hits hard!"

"I warned you," Slippy replied, crossing his arms.

"Sorry that I didn't believe you. But still, the Captain had better not assign me with you for this job."

Still trying and failing to suppress his residual laughter, Hartmann glanced at Xavier and stated, "Actually, I was planning on that. Thanks to your work, we know that the base has been experiencing some issues with its security system. Before I kidnapped Fox, I managed to find the contractor who's scheduled to work on the system. He's supposed to arrive at the base tomorrow at 1000 hours. We'll find a way to detain him while you and "Fatty" pose as IT experts and gain access to the facility in his place. From reading Slippy's intel file, I know he's responsible for putting together quite a few of the base's security features. If we can get him inside, it'll make the mission that much easier."

Xavier's expression fell. Attempting to come up with anything that could conceivably prevent him from having to work with Slippy, he suggested, "But they'll recognize him. He's worked with them before."

"He'll have to use a disguise, of course," Hartmann replied. "I had planned on that from the beginning. I'll let him decide what he wants to do about it."

Slippy looked in his direction. "I've got a few ideas. You got any scrap metal around here?"

Hartmann locked eyes with Xavier, whose face bore a crestfallen, terrified countenance. Then, he glanced to his right and answered Slippy. "This used to be a car factory, so there should be some lying around."

"Great! I'll get right to work," said Slippy, walking away from the table and into the cavernous expanse that defined the main factory floor.

With Slippy out of earshot, Hartmann lowered his head and whispered, "This may have been a bad idea."

"No shit, Slylock," Xavier huffed, standing up and claiming his laptop, which sat in front of Hartmann. Then, he stuffed it into his shoulder bag and walked in the direction of the van that he had arrived in.

Looking at Fox out the corner of his eye, Hartmann explained, "He'll get over it eventually. He doesn't like to work with other people – that's all."

"Then why don't you let him work by himself here?" Fox asked.

"Simple – because your friend has the skills and knowledge we need to make this work. The whole mission is dependent on him."

Fox cringed and covered one of his eyes with his hand. "I'm not sure I like that."

"Neither do it," Hartmann replied. "But it has to be done. Our first course of action tomorrow is to intercept the contractor who's supposed to fix Anthracite's security system. We can do it a number of ways, but the quieter it is, the better. Then, after Slippy and Xavier enter the base, we'll get in touch with them and figure out a way to get in. With the security system undergoing maintenance, we won't have any trouble accessing the rooms inside the complex. That might even include the weapons storehouse."

"Don't get your hopes up," Fox warned. "I know the leader of Anthracite. He's smart enough not to have his most important room protected by only one system."

"I was just trying to be optimistic. I agree with you, though."

Across the table, Vincent growled, "What are we supposed to do after we get in? Sabotage the planes, or track them? There's a pretty big difference."

Hartmann brought his hand to his muzzle and scratched it. "Hmm…I think placing trackers on the planes is a better bet. That way, the West Fortunan and Cornerian armies will finally know where to go to put a stop to the weapons trafficking."

"Works for me," the oversized canine replied, sliding out of the table's bench. "Unless you've got something else to say, I'm going to head to the Burger Joint with Xav for some lunch. You want anything?"

Hartmann paused for thought, then answered, "I'll have the small version of whatever you're getting. You might as well pick up something for Fox and Slippy, too. Don't worry, I'll pay you back."

"Fine," Vincent muttered before climbing into one of the vans and starting the engine. The garage door behind him crawled open, allowing him to back out. Seconds later, the overhead door closed again and left Fox and Hartmann to themselves. Somewhere in the bowels of the factory, Fox thought he heard the sound of sparks flying.

"Can Slippy even eat a cheeseburger?" asked Hartmann.

Fox snickered. "I think with him, if there's a will, there's a way when it comes to food."

"I hear you. Still, I want to see him do that."

A smile crept onto Fox's face as the thought of Slippy attempting to eat a cheeseburger entered his mind. But then, he recalled Hartmann's unexplained history with his vixenly friend. Sliding closer to the husky, he lowered his voice and asked, "So, how do you know Scarlet? And do you really think she's in Anthracite's base?"

"If she's alive, she's probably in there. If anything, they may be trying to use her as bait. If you check your email anytime soon, you might find a ransom notice or something like that. Unfortunately, that might be hard to do because we destroyed your computer when we raided your room. You're welcome."

Rage filled Fox's eyes. "What the hell? Why would you do that? Oh wait…the tracking bug."

"Correct. However, we did save your hard drive, so your data isn't gone. We also took your bags with us when we went through your room. You definitely don't want to be going back to the hotel anytime soon.

"You got that right," Fox huffed. "I'm still ticked off that Scarlet took the fall for all of this."

Hartmann opened his hands. "It is what it is, Fox. Don't worry – if she's in that base, I'll do everything I can to make sure she gets out alive."

"Thanks. I get the feeling you're doing it for yourself, though."

Hartmann sighed and shook his head. "You're right. You see, Scarlet and I met at a casino last year and hooked up for one night at the same hotel that you were staying at. We had a good time, but we both knew that it would never work for the two of us to stay together. Still, since then, I've felt like I owe her something. I was going through a depression after losing my fiancée on a mission, and Scarlet helped take my mind off of it."

His face solemn, Fox glanced at the husky. "You lost your wife, too?"

"We're not that different, are we, Fox?" Hartmann asked in response. "I'm not going to make that same mistake again – the mistake of putting the person I love the most in harm's way on a daily basis. If I find another mate, it'll be after I'm finished with Onyx."

Fox nodded in agreement, then thought about Scarlet. _"If a little romance with her helped this guy after his wife was killed, maybe it would work for me too? But then again, the two of them could never make a real relationship work. I don't think Scarlet would be happy with anything less than that with me. Am I stupid for actually considering that?"_

As before, his father's advice from earlier entered his mind. _"…I would recommend spending more time with her if it's good for your mental state…I know it's the last thing on your mind, but don't be afraid if things with her start becoming romantic. Whatever happens, happens – just do anything that helps you recover quicker."_

Confused, he asked himself, _"Was my dad trying to play matchmaker with me and Scarlet from the beginning? I know that he really likes her, and he has for years. He said that Fara was perfect for me, but I can't help but wonder if he really wanted Scarlet for me instead."_

While Fox sifted through his thoughts, Hartmann nudged him and said, "Hey, I'm going to look over the base schematics while I wait for Vince and Xav to bring back lunch. Give me a holler if you need anything."

Startled, Fox jumped back into reality. "Oh…sure."

While the husky left the table and walked towards a workbench fifty feet away, Fox leaned forward and boarded his train of thought again. Then, his ears perked up at the sound of Hartmann's phone ringing. Glancing at the canine out of the corner of his eye, he listened as he answered the call.

"Hello? What is it? What? She's here? Vincent, don't let her out of your sight. Capture her and bring her to me, no questions asked. Got it? Good."

While Hartmann ended the call and slid his phone back into his pocket, Fox asked, "Was that who I think you were talking about?"

"Yes," Hartmann replied, turning around and facing Fox. "With all luck, we'll have ourselves a new source of intel within the hour. If Vince and Xav can capture her and bring her here, I'll make sure you get the chance to thank her for your computer virus."

A faint, grim smile appeared on Fox's face. "Thanks. I'll make sure to do that."

* * *

 _AUTHOR'S NOTE(S):_

 _Onyx is back! But they've got a very different role here, and there's no Carmine or Ling in this one - they're over in_ Parallax. _By this point, I'm starting to run out of_ Iridium _OCs to reuse._

 _To be honest, I had started to put together a plan for this story, but then I had the idea to throw in that last bit at the end. That changes everything, and now I'm writing by the seat of my pants again. To paraphrase something I read in a PM regarding_ Parallax _, I'm digging a hole and hoping there's a jetpack at the bottom._

 _Also, I've got a new poll on my profile page. It might not have an effect on the story, but I'm curious to see what the results will be. The question is 'which vixen would you - the reader - prefer Fox to end up with?' Krystal, Scarlet, or...both. _

_By the way - XxSanitariumxX and Nail Strafer: I had_ _ _originally_ planned for Krystal's website to be completely virus-free, but your reviews prompted me to change that. So, having said that, be careful what you put in your reviews, because I might just make it happen - or vice versa. Don't stop leaving reviews, though!_


	8. Cassandra

**Arc II: Darker Matters**

 _Part 4: Cassandra_

Upon hearing about his unit's discovery of the Macbeth spy known as Cassandra, Hartmann abandoned his analysis of Anthracite's base and returned to the lunch table. Reclaiming his seat next to Fox, he sat with his arms folded on the tabletop, waiting for any updates from his squadmates.

Then, after fifteen minutes, his phone rang. Within a second of the first sound, he pulled it to ear level. "What is it? Did you get her?"

Vincent's voice echoed through the phone's speakers. Although somewhat garbled, the tone of his voice gave Hartmann hope. "We got her, Captain. She's been secured in the van."

Hartmann felt a surge of jubilation shoot through him, but he refused to allow it to impact his judgment. "Did you check to see what she has on her? A phone, a computer, even RF tags?"

"We already did. We didn't find any RF tags, but we found both a military-grade comms device and a laptop with her. What should we do next? It's up to you, boss."

The husky scratched his muzzle and glanced at Fox out of the corner of his eye, then answered, "I've got an idea of how we can get the most information possible out of her, and it involves those two devices. Whatever you do, don't destroy them. Immediately after this call is over, head to the abandoned downtown warehouse where we set up shop a month ago. I'll meet you there."

A trance of concern laced Vincent's voice. "Um, Captain, you know that both her phone and her computer are probably being tracked, right? Are you sure that's a good idea?"

"It's the best idea I've got. We're going to force her to contact her CO once we get her to the warehouse. We'll try to get him to speak by asking him our questions through her. We're going to need both of her devices to be active if we want to make it seem legitimate. Mac-Central will probably track her to the warehouse, but we'll be gone by then. We'll just have to make sure we never use that location again."

"Got it. We'll head to the warehouse now. And sorry, but we didn't get a chance to pick up any food. Hope that doesn't bother you too much."

"What? That's unacceptable!" Hartmann snarled before he let out a pacifying laugh and commented, "Nah, it's not a problem – we'll get something later."

With that, he closed the call, shoved his phone back into his pants pocket, and turned to Fox. "I'm going to hit the road. You should come with me. Better bring your friend, too. I don't trust him here by himself."

Fox cocked his head to the side. "He _is_ an adult, you know. Although I guess I could see how you missed that."

"No, no," Hartmann chuckled. "I just don't like the idea of having him free to roam around here while we're away. You'd better go get him. I'll have the van ready to leave by the time you get back."

Fox nodded, then disappeared into the darkened factory outside the garage area, following the repetitive sound of sparks flying in hopes that it would lead him to Slippy.

* * *

 _-_ § _-_

* * *

An uneasy fifteen minute journey brought Fox, Slippy, and Hartmann to the rusted front doors of the old warehouse that the husky had designated as Cassandra's interrogation area. The area surrounding the dilapidated building struck Fox as being one of the most lifeless places that he had ever been to in his life. The distant sound of the city's interstate traffic mixed with the occasional emergency siren crept into the abandoned slums, providing the only noise that overshadowed the faint, humid wind that breezed through the crumbling concrete buildings that surrounded the warehouse.

Hartmann eased the van up to the left of the two warehouse doors, and after a timid tap on the horn, the door rolled open, revealing the other van inside the building next to a corroded table with two chairs around it. While the husky parked the van next to its twin, Fox unclipped his seat belt and jumped out of the vehicle with one of Onyx's assault rifles in his right hand. It did nothing to put him at ease, but before arriving, Hartman had warned both him and Slippy to arm themselves before Cassandra's interrogation began.

The warehouse sported over twenty concrete columns that supported the curved ceiling, while empty shelves ran along the sides of the building's interior. The sunlight from outside crept through the dingy, thin, plastic windows near the roof. Still, even in the heat of the day, the warehouse interior was dimly lit at best.

Fox stepped towards the makeshift table, where he noticed an unfamiliar laptop opened on the gray metal tabletop. Two figures sat behind the table – Xavier and the blue-furred vixen that Fox immediately recognized as Krystal. For a second, she lifted her eyes from the table's surface and gazed into Fox's. Disappointment and anger radiated from them, and her entire blue-coated persona looked both furious and on edge.

Glancing to his left, he noticed Vincent standing in the shadows a matter of feet away from the table. He held an automatic shotgun, pointed in Krystal's direction with the intent to fire if she attempted to so much as move. As he heard Hartmann and Slippy open their respective doors and climb out of the van behind him, Fox stepped up to the table and looked at Krystal's face. Even though he had found himself unable to stop staring at her back in Aquas, he realized that he had never recognized how beautiful she actually was in person. Even her photographs lacked something that her tangible form possessed.

In a quiet voice that came out with a faint rasp, he asked the vixen, "Why were you tracking me?"

Krystal said nothing and continued staring at the table.

Raising his voice to a distinct growl, Fox demanded, "What's so important about me that you thought it was necessary to have me kidnapped?"

Again, Krystal made no response. Upset, Fox turned to his right and locked eyes with Hartmann as he approached him. The canine waved him off, then whispered, "Don't worry – we'll get her to talk. We always get our subjects to talk."

Fox winced. The thought of what Onyx might do to the beautiful vixen to make her spit out her information pained him. Nevertheless, he too wanted to know what she kept hidden from the vast majority of the world; and knowing that she had a significant part in the debacle in Aquas and his current situation with Anthracite caused much of his sympathy for her to disappear.

Hartmann motioned for him and Slippy to back away from the desk while Xavier stood up and rolled a cart into position in front of the desk. An oversized LCD display sat atop it, and Fox failed to understand its purpose until Slippy nudged him and explained, "They're using it to give her prompts."

Once the screen had been wheeled into place and powered up via a long, yellow extension cord, Hartmann approached Krystal, determination in his eyes and a swagger in his walk. Pointing his finger at her computer, he ordered her, "Enter your password. Now."

Krystal was unmoved. Refusing to acknowledge the husky's command, she kept her eyes lowered and remained motionless.

"Alright, then. Vincent," Hartmann barked.

Understanding his cue, Vincent stepped closer to Krystal, then cocked his shotgun and aimed it at her head. At the same time, Hartmann stepped backwards out of his firing line, then told him, "Fire on three. One. Two…"

Suddenly, Krystal clutched at her head and shrieked, "I'll do it! I'll do it! Don't kill me! Please!"

Behind her back, Hartmann glanced at Vincent and smirked. _"There's always a way to make them talk."_ With Krystal suddenly compliant, he stepped up to the desk and watched her type in her password. When the computer's main screen loaded, he knelt next to her and spoke into her ear. "Open a video conference with your CO."

Unlike the last time Hartmann gave her an order, she gritted her teeth and hesitated.

"You know what we'll do if you don't cooperate," Hartmann whispered.

Shaking her head, Krystal moved her cursor to the icon belonging to her video conferencing program and double clicked it. "You monster. You won't get away with this."

Unmoved by Krystal's empty threat, Hartmann stepped away from the desk and took a seat to the left of the currently blank prompting screen. While he sat down, Xavier opened his laptop and handed it to him. While waiting for Krystal's communications line to queue up, he typed several words into the computer. As his fingers touched the keys, the words appeared on the prompting screen in large, white letters. Aptly so, his first message was, _"Say what is on the screen in front of you, exactly how I say it."_

Krystal's feeble nod was enough to let him know that she understood him. In seconds, the video conferencing app loaded and connected with Krystal's contact. As it did in Aquas, her commander's feline visage appeared on her screen, peering into her eyes with an intensity that chilled her to the bone. "What is it, Cassandra? Have Fox McCloud and Slippy Toad been eliminated?"

Hartmann tapped three keys on Xavier's computer, causing the word 'Yes' to appear on the teleprompter screen.

"Yes," Krystal choked, wanting nothing more than to reveal that she was being forced to talk yet fearing for her life at the same time.

"Excellent work," the commander replied. "After your failure in Aquas, I nearly lost hope in you; but your success in this operation has reestablished my faith in your abilities. If I may ask, how did you do it?"

" _I tracked them with the bug we planted in my website, and then when they landed, I gave their location to Anthracite's leader (use his name if you know it). His men killed them and forwarded the news to me,"_ Hartmann typed.

Krystal nearly gasped in shock as the words reached the screen in front of the desk. She struggled to comprehend how anyone could have seen through her plan so perfectly, especially since she had failed to complete it. Then, she glanced at the shotgun aimed at her head and stuttered, "I…I tracked them with the bug we planted in my website, and then when they landed, I gave their location to W…Wolf. His men killed them and forwarded the news to me."

Her heart trembled when a confused, surly frown crossed her commander's face. However, it dissipated almost immediately, replaced by his usual glacial stare. "Excellent job, Cassandra. Your skills are proving to be even more useful than we originally thought. Rafa will be especially glad to hear that McCloud is no more."

Up until that point, Fox had backed up to one of the vans and leaned against it; but the mention of Rafa's name caused his ears to shoot up. Having had a former squadmate with the same – extremely uncommon – first name, he immediately considered that he may have had a hand in the Northpoint catastrophe.

" _Wait – that can't be right! Rafa was the closest thing I had to a brother in that unit! What would motivate him to turn on me? This must be a different Rafa he's talking about. But Rafa isn't even a name they use in Macbeth! It's a Fortunan name that isn't really used anywhere outside of the…eastern half… Am I thinking through this right? He_ did _seem a bit distant there at the end, and he hardly talked at all during the Northpoint operation. Could it…could it really be?"_

Although a visible tempest of emotions broke out on Fox's face, no one in the room noticed – not even Slippy.

Not wanting to create an awkward silence in Krystal's conversation, Hartmann stormed the keyboard in front of him, attempting to form a long, articulate question before the gap between Krystal and her commander's words became too great. By some miracle, the words appeared on the screen the way that Hartman intended them to.

" _I've been hearing about someone by the name of Andross Bowman. Can you tell me about him?"_

Krystal glanced at the prompt screen and narrowed her eyes in confusion. _"I've never heard anything about this 'Andross' person. Is there something my commander isn't telling me that I need to know?"_ Then, realizing that the commander likely noticed her expression, she tried to calm herself before repeating the line on the screen.

"I've been hearing about someone by the name of Andross Bowman. Can you tell me about him?"

"I don't know what you're talking about. Who is this 'Bowman' fellow supposed to be?" the Commander asked in response.

Hartmann prepared his answer and displayed it on the screen. _"I heard that he was working on developing weapons for the military. I was wondering if you knew anything about him."_

Again, Krystal mimed the words on the screen; and this time, the tone of her voice seemed genuinely inquisitive. As she finished stating the question, she watched her commander's face in hopes that he would give the answer to her. She hated that the scumbags responsible for capturing and searching her would hear about it as well, but in a way, she felt that it would be worth it for the sake of knowing the answer for herself.

Through the computer screen, the leopard looked away from the camera then looked back at Krystal, this time with a faint, devious grin etched onto his muzzle and an evil glint in his eyes. "You'll never know," he snarled. "And neither will the people prompting you to ask me these questions. Oh – you're all so surprised, aren't you? Well, let me tell you something: the instant you convinced my worthless associate to say that both Fox McCloud and Slippy Toad had been killed, I knew about the game you were playing. And during the time you wasted trying to get more information out of me, I ordered a team of elite soldiers to surround your building. And now, you will all die – including you, Cassandra."

Hartmann leaped out of his chair like a bomb had been strapped to it and pressed himself against the back of the nearest support column in the warehouse. "Everyone! Defensive positions!"

So sooner had he spoken than a series of blasts ripped through the front of the building. The rusted garage doors peeled apart, allowing a sudden surge of light into the warehouse. With one of Onyx's vans acting as his only cover, Fox crept to the back edge of the vehicle and fired at the source of the light. From behind the column twenty feet to his right, Hartmann did the same, firing off five shots and then ducking behind the column a split second before an enemy bullet chipped off part of its corner.

"Fox! They're going behind the vans! Watch your feet!" the husky shouted.

Heeding his warning, Fox crouched behind the van's front wheel. Then, he quickly scanned the area and noticed Slippy standing in front of the other van's hood twenty feet from him. Both Xavier and Vincent crouched behind adjacent pillars fifty feet from the other side of Krystal's desk. Krystal herself struggled in her chair, having been cuffed to it earlier. Fearing that she would be caught in the attackers' crossfire, she let out a panicked 'yip' and tried to extricate herself from the chair. Much to her dismay, the result of her desperation was her chair falling over and crashing to the floor with a loud rattle that filled the entire warehouse.

Fox watched a cylindrical object fly over the vans and roll to a stop next to the desk the moment after Krystal's chair hit the floor. He shouted "Flashbang!" but the stun grenade erupted before he could force the word out of his mouth. He shut his eyes and covered his ears, but the blast still rocked his internals. Struggling to stay on his feet, he looked to his right and watched Slippy fall against the front of the other van, holding his head and groaning in pain.

While Fox struggled to focus, Hartmann darted from behind his cover and sprinted around the back of Fox's van while the sound of the flashbang was still fresh in the building. Rounding the back of the vehicle, he saw two heavily armed soldiers sprinting around the side of Slippy's van and opened fire on one of them. Each of his bullets hit its target, and the soldier dropped to the floor.

The remaining soldier jumped behind the van and fired back at Hartmann from cover, but he had already moved to the other side of the vehicle, where Slippy struggled to stay upright after receiving the brunt of the flash grenade's force. On the opposite side of Krystal's desk, which provided an awkward central point for the skirmish, Xavier and Vincent opened fire in the direction of the warehouse's rear entry door, where three additional troops had entered. A hail of bullets spewed from the rear of the building, forcing both Xavier and Vincent to duck behind their support columns to avoid being ripped apart.

At that moment, a realization dawned on Hartmann. "Vincent! Look out!"

The Alsatian locked eyes with his leader, then moved his vision six feet to the left. Behind the second van's front right wheel well, the one remaining front entry soldier crouched and took aim at him. Vincent raised his shotgun, but quickly realized that the risk of his buckshot spread hitting Slippy or Hartmann posed too great of a threat. Time slowed to a crawl for him, and he knew that he had no time to dive out of the enemy's line of fire. Then, he heard the sound of something slamming into the side of the van and watched the enemy soldier drop to the ground a moment later.

He breathed a sigh of relief when he caught of glimpse of Fox taking the fallen soldier's position near the right front of the second van, but refocused his attention on the remaining two troops behind him and Xavier. Peeking around the corner of his support column, he opened suppressive fire on the back of the warehouse. While Xavier followed Vincent's lead, Fox darted out from behind the van and sprinted into the open area behind Krystal's desk with his eyes staring down his rifle's sights. Vincent and Xavier's collective fire left one of the two soldiers pinned down behind a column near the back of the warehouse, and out of fear of being hit, he remained motionless.

Wasting no time, Fox positioned himself for an open shot and fired a three round burst. All three shots hit his target in the neck, and the wounded soldier stumbled forwards and collapsed on the ground, clutching at his throat.

"One down! Only one left!" he shouted.

Hearing Fox's words, the last soldier jumped out from behind a column on the left side of the warehouse close to the back of the building and fired wildly in the direction of the vans while racing towards the rear exit door. Unfortunately for him, fire from Hartmann's rifle silenced him in seconds. As the last soldier fell to the ground dead, Fox's ears rang from the sound of a feminine scream nearby. Turning towards Krystal's desk, he knelt next to the vixen's chair and heaved her back into an upright position. Only then did he notice the growing red patch on her upper right leg that had already soaked through her dress. Krystal let out several yelps of pain, whimpering as the blood dripped down her leg.

He considered asking Hartmann to locate a tourniquet, but when Krystal screamed, "Help me!" to his face, he gazed into her pain-stricken eyes that hinted at a raging ocean of emotions too numerous to list. While Xavier, Hartmann and Vincent approached her, Fox pulled off his black t-shirt and tied it around her leg to block off the blood flow. For a moment, Krystal stopped whimpering; and Fox wondered if it had anything to do with her laying eyes on his muscular upper body.

Hartmann stopped next to Fox and laid a hand on his shoulder. "Things are going to get a lot worse if we don't get out of here now. Fox, untie Krystal and put her in the van that we came in. Xav and Vincent – put that screen back in your van and roll up the extension cord, then try to help Slippy get into the back. That flashbang really shook him up. I'll take care of the guy that Fox knocked out. He might know some things that we'll find useful."

Fox nodded and pulled his knife out of its holster on his waist while the three members of Onyx sped into a frenzy. As his blade cut through the ropes binding Krystal to her chair, the teleprompting screen whizzed past him out of the corner of his eye, followed by the sound of one of the van doors opening. Each of the ropes around Krystal dropped to the ground one after the other until nothing held her to the chair. Yet, even then, she remained seated, whimpering from the pain in her leg. Still, she had the clarity of mind to glance at Fox and whisper, "Thank you."

"Can you stand up?" Fox asked her, taking a quick glance to his left in time to see Vincent helping Slippy into the back of the second van.

Krystal shook her head. "I'm sorry – it hurts too much. C…can you carry me? Please?"

A scowl crossed Fox's face. His sympathy for the vixen remained at rock bottom, and his knowledge of her complicity in the Aquas fiasco made him want to force her to limp her way to the van, bleeding leg and all. But then he realized that time was of the essence; and carrying her would provide the quickest way to extract her from the warehouse. Gritting his teeth, he reached under her legs with one hand, placing the other under her back. While Hartmann grabbed the soldier whose head Fox had slammed into the side of the van, he lifted Krystal from the chair and carried her to the van that he had arrived in. For a second, he bore her full body weight with one hand and pulled the van door open, then placed her on the cargo floor behind the front seats. Due to her injury, he strongly doubted that she would attempt to escape.

He reached for the van door to close it, but then heard Hartmann shout out, "Do you mind riding with her in the back? We need someone to try to calm her down."

Fox looked back at Krystal, who returned a weak, tearful frown and clutched at her leg.

"Fine," he muttered.

"Good. Let's get going! The police will be here any second now – either that, or more soldiers. Vincent, Xavier – we'll take the back route to the hideout. Someone might try to follow us, and if they do, we'll have more time to lose them by taking the alternate route."

As he climbed into the back of the van with Krystal, he noticed that Hartmann had both the vixen's computer and cell phone in his hands. But only for a moment. To Krystal's horror, he sprinted over to the nearest wall and smashed the computer into the side of it multiple times until it resembled metallic papier-mâché. Throwing it to the ground so forcefully that the screen bifurcated from the keyboard, he dropped the phone next to it and fired three shots into the front of the screen. The device spat out sparks, then started smoking.

Krystal grimaced and held her head in her hands as she watched her last traces of connection with her superiors being destroyed in front of her. She felt completely hopeless. Surrounded by hostile soldiers who (she felt) considered her a disposable piece of information, she looked to Fox as the only person around her who viewed her as anything more than that. At the same time, she realized the delusion of her own thoughts. All Fox knew her for were her provocative internet pictures and his brief interaction with her in Aquas. He held no sympathy for her, and she knew it. Or did he?

As the holder of a rare talent among her race, Krystal had the ability to read surface-level thoughts and the deeper emotions behind them. For the majority of her life, her fellow Cerinians had berated her for it, considering her abilities 'unworthy' of a woman. However, when she managed to escape from her native islands and her leaders' patriarchal views, her talents paved the way for unusually quick success as both a model and a spy for the Mac-Central intelligence group. Still, she disliked using her abilities, as the distasteful memories of her childhood returned to her every time she attempted to skim someone's mind for information.

When Fox closed the van's side door, she took the opportunity to 'feel out' his emotions regarding her. To her surprise, she recognized a faint iota of disappointment related to her line of work, suggesting that he would have been at least somewhat interested in her if she had not been responsible for so much of his recent duress. The thought of her commander referring to her as his 'worthless associate' crushed her spirit and made her question her decision to join Mac-Central in the first place. If she was honest with herself, she had to admit that her brief 'career' as a spy had been punctuated by missed opportunities and embarrassing failures, with her few successes coming only when outside help took some of the burdens off of her shoulders.

Her thoughts were pushed to the back of her mind when Hartmann climbed into the van and started the engine before reversing out of the warehouse. The only windows in the van flanked the front seats, preventing Krystal and Fox from seeing anything outside the van. However, Hartmann's posture reflected an air of confident relief that came from escaping the warehouse mostly unscathed. Turning onto another abandoned street flanked by eroding buildings that resembled the factory that Onyx kept their temporary hideout in, he peered over his shoulder at Fox and said, "Try to get her to calm down. It'll slow down her bleeding until Xavier can operate on her leg."

Krystal yelped, causing Hartmann's ears to shoot up. "What? Does he have any experience?"

"You'll be fine," the husky replied. "He was a combat medic before he joined up with me. Don't worry – he'll get that bullet out of your leg one way or another."

The tone of his voice did nothing to assuage Krystal's concern for her own health. So, instead of asking any more questions, she looked to Fox, hoping to elicit some kind of response from him. As Krystal locked eyes with him, an awkward sensation coursed through his body. Hoping to eliminate the uneasy tension between him and her, he told Krystal, "Just try to relax. Focus on your breathing. You'll be out of here soon."

Krystal obeyed, letting out a heavy sigh and pulling her legs to her chest while ignoring the fact that her bloodstained dress only came to the middle of her thighs while she was standing. Fox winced when he caught a glimpse of Krystal's injured leg. In spite of his makeshift tourniquet, a foot-wide circle of deep crimson coated her blue fur above her right knee. Despite her best efforts to calm herself by taking deep breaths, she shuddered every few seconds as her numbing leg throbbed in pain. She closed her eyes, but it was not enough to prevent a single tear from dripping down her face.

Fox had in mind to ask her why she would want to track him – of all people – from Aquas to Katina, but her pitiable body language took away any chances of that question being resolved. After five minutes of driving, the run-down 'ghost district' gave way to a suburban district that became more and more luxurious as the miles rolled past. Pulling into the left turn lane (Katinans drove on the right), Hartmann stopped the van at a red traffic signal and leaned back in his seat. He waited nearly a minute for the light to turn green; and when it finally did, his phone rang from inside his pocket. Waiting until he had turned onto the avenue to the left, he extricated his phone and activated its 'speaker' setting.

"Vincent? What is it now?"

"There's been an interesting development, boss. It seems that the frog knows the soldier Fox knocked out. She came to after we pulled out of the warehouse, and the frog immediately started arguing with her after that. One thing that tells us is that we were attacked by Anthracite. I was wondering how they could have gotten to the warehouse that quickly if they were part of Macbeth's military. Obviously, the answer is that they weren't."

"Dammit," Hartman grunted, punching the rim of the steering wheel. "I really hope that doesn't make tomorrow's operation more difficult than it's already going to be."

"We didn't leave any survivors, so I don't think it puts us at any more of a disadvantage than before," Vincent replied. "Having another hostage means we're going to be busy with interrogations for at least a few hours, though."

Hartmann chuckled. "I thought you liked interrogations, big guy."

A guttural growl resonated through the phone's speakers. "They're no fun unless the person being interrogated _really_ doesn't want to talk – like that mercenary general working with the Titanian Army. Now, I enjoyed that one."

"That one was NSFW, man – not even for our work," Hartmann replied, shaking his head. "You know, I worry about you sometimes."

"You should."

Noticing that Vincent had ended the call, Hartmann grinned and moved his phone to the cupholder closest to him. Then, he glanced over his shoulder and announced, "We'll be back at the factory in ten minutes. Fox, just keep trying to get Cassandra to calm down."

* * *

 _AUTHOR'S NOTE(S):  
_

 _This chapter could have gone on a lot longer than it did, but for length reasons, I decided to cut it to where it is now. The next chapter might as well be considered Part 4.5, because it's sort of an extension of this one that has to take place before the conclusion to the arc happens. I didn't plan on the gang staying in Katina for more than five chapters, but it looks like this arc is going to be a lot longer than the Aquas one.  
_

 _On a side note, I'd like explain Fox's comment about Scarlet enjoying whatever Anthracite is doing to her. I wanted to make it clear that he was not serious about that. He was supposed to make that comment in a exaggerated, sarcastic manner, but trying to write that into the sentence made it look awkward. I've since put that description into the previous chapter anyway. Not that it makes it any less outlandish or offensive, really.  
_

 _The poll is still open, but I've had enough votes so far to get a good idea of what the readership thinks about Fox's love life. If you haven't voted yet, you can; but bear in mind that it probably won't change anything about what I'm planning for this story's future.  
_


	9. Lucid Nightmares

**Arc II: Darker Matters**

 _Part 5: Lucid Nightmares_

The two vans rolled back into the abandoned factory. After two pairs of brake squeaks, all sound ceased until the doors opened. While Hartmann jumped out of the driver's seat and walked towards the other van, Fox opened the side door and helped Krystal out of the vehicle. He gently set her on the ground and helped her catch her footing, but when her wounded leg touched the floor, she yipped and stumbled forward. Fox put his arms around her waist and prevented her from falling, then lifted her off the ground and held her.

Over the sound of Vincent, Xavier, Slippy, and the other prisoner climbing out of the van to the right of Hartmann's, he thought he heard Krystal whisper, _"Thanks."_

In a moment, Xavier approached Fox and took a long, concerned look at Krystal's leg. Then, he ordered Fox, "Put her on the lunch table. I need to get that bullet out of her leg immediately."

Fox balked. "What? You're going to operate on her over _there_?"

"Does it look like I've got another option? If she loses much more blood, she might die; and if that happens, we'll lose the information about her superiors that she's got locked up in her head. Hurry up while I get my tools."

Struggling to believe what he was doing, Fox carried Krystal to the table and set her on top of it. The vixen glared at him with fear in her eyes as her skin and fur touched the cold metal tabletop, but she sat still nonetheless. Despite her concerns, Fox knew that she wanted the bullet removed from her leg as much as Xavier did. A mere moment later, Xavier returned from the van, holding a bevy of small medical instruments and several hypodermic needles, which he placed on the table next to Krystal.

While the others milled about the area, Xavier looked over his shoulder and shouted, "Hey – can you all go into the main factory for a few hours? I need to focus here. That, and you definitely don't want to be standing anywhere close to me while I'm operating. Maybe you can use the time to get to know the lady whose head Fox almost smashed in."

"Fine. Sure thing," Hartmann grumbled, turning towards the rest of the group. "You heard what he said. Head into the assembly line area and wait until he lets us back in here."

Vincent, Fox, and Slippy followed Hartmann out of the garage area into the main factory, along with the only mercenary fortunate enough to have survived the earlier skirmish in the downtown warehouse. Entering the enormous assembly line area, Fox stared at the woman, dressed in one of Anthracite's dark gray military uniforms. She looked like a lynx, although her long, spotted tail suggested the presence of some other feline variant's DNA. Like Fox and the other men, she kept her head free of hair, leaving only her undercoat of fur. Slippy walked beside her, and judging from their mannerisms, Fox could tell that they had never been on the best of terms while in Anthracite. Still, he had the feeling that Slippy enjoyed having a former comrade around.

After putting two hundred feet between them and the closed-off garage area, Hartmann stopped the group and looked at the lynx. "You – have a seat. We've got some things to ask you."

"Of course you do," she groaned, rolling her eyes. "I'm really getting tired of dealing with people like you."

"Great! That should motivate you to get this over with even faster," Hartmann retorted. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed Slippy creeping towards the back room where Fox had located him earlier, but he said nothing about it and allowed him to slip out of sight. Seconds later, the sound of sparks flying filled the air inside the factory. Giving Fox an odd, confused stare, he asked, "What the heck is he doing back there?"

Fox shrugged. "He's building some kind of machine…cart…thing. It looked like a wheelchair, but there's no way that's what it's supposed to be. I guess we'll find out sooner or later."

Sitting down on the dusty floor, the lynx suggested, "I'll bet you anything that it actually _is_ a wheelchair. Knowing him, it'll probably have a missile launcher in it or something."

"Did he do that kind of thing when he was with Anthracite?" Hartmann asked.

"What? Build remote controlled wheelchairs with missile launchers? Well, not exactly; but boy – you should have seen some of the screwball things he came up with. Yeesh."

Crossing his arms, Hartmann stepped closer to the lynx and stared at her with the most intimidating expression possible. "We'd like to know about them, especially if they're being used by your boss."

The lynx craned her head upwards, then broke into a devious smile. "You know, you don't have to try to look tough. You don't intimidate me at all."

Hartmann's face contorted into an unhappy mess of frustrated emotions that caused him to bite his lip and take another step towards the feline. In response to his actions, she implied, "I can tell you're jealous of Stoneface over there, 'cause he's ten times more badass than you'll ever be."

"Hey, shut up!" the husky snapped. "What's your name?"

"Lollipop Sugartits. What's yours?"

"No – your real name!"

The lynx crossed her arms and scowled. "Fine. My name's Miyu, and I'll be your server today. Can I interest you in the special? You know it's cheap because we've got tons of it and it's about to go bad, right?"

Despite his attempts to remain calm, Hartmann struggled to keep himself from kicking Miyu in the face. Exasperated, he covered his muzzle with his hand and shook his head. "You are the most annoying person I've ever met before, and that's saying something. But really, I need to know everything you've got on the Anthracite base."

Miyu rested her head on her hands. "Well, what's in it for me if I tell you?"

Hartmann started crossing his arms again, but refrained after he realized what he was doing. "Simple. We won't kill you, as hard as that's going to be to resist."

"Sheesh – you don't have to be such a dick about it. I'll tell you what you need to know. What do you want me to start with? Slippy's inventions?"

Hartmann looked at Vincent, then shrugged. "Might as well start somewhere. Are these things actually useful? Better yet, what are they?"

A faint smile crept onto Miyu's face as she cycled through her mental filing cabinet, pulling up memories related to some of Slippy's more ridiculous projects, some of which were actually idiotic enough to work. After pausing for thought for a quarter of a minute, she began, "Well, one of Slippy's inventions that Anthracite uses are his rolling security drones. They look like big peppershakers with tiny little wheels on the bottom. They're equipped with two machine pistols each, and they're heavily armored. But because this was one of Slippy's inventions, he dropped a flaming turd on the project and left the drones with a crippling weakness."

"Which is?"

"Stairs."

For the first and only time, Fox witnessed Vincent break into laughter, if only for a second. After he let out an uncharacteristic guffaw, he clamped a hand over his muzzle and looked away from the others.

Incredulous, Hartmann asked Miyu, "What? He designed a killer robot and forgot to think about how to make it go up stairs?"

"That's Slippy for you," Miyu replied, her face plastered with a cheesy grin. "Boss didn't really take to any of his other ideas, though. Mostly, he thought they were a waste of time and resources. I think that's why he fired him. Well, apart from him being unbelievably clumsy and unable to keep his guard up for more than two seconds." She stopped for a moment, then added, "Well, now that I think of it, Slippy actually did design a bipedal loader for the warehouse. I don't think there's any point in mentioning it, but it _was_ one of his ideas."

Hartmann narrowed his eyes. "A bipedal loader? It couldn't be used as a weapons platform, could it?"

"Weapons…platform?" Vincent asked, parroting the question.

Giving his teammate an odd glance, Hartmann returned his attention to Miyu and elaborated on his question. "I'm just a bit concerned that it could be used as a weapon against us. Maybe it's just me picturing it as some kind of combat robot."

"Combat…robot?"

Upon hearing Vincent mime his question for the second time, Hartmann snapped and turned his entire body in the enormous canine's direction. "Dammit! Stop metal gearing already!"

"Metal…Gear?"

Silence fell over the factory floor. For several seconds, Hartmann struggled to keep himself from digging his claws into his skull. Finally, after seething in frustration for nearly half a minute, he glared at Vincent and barked, "You know what? Why don't you finish the interrogation?"

" _Mission accomplished,"_ Vincent thought, holding back the smile that wanted to break through his stoic façade. "If you say so, boss."

Without another word, Hartmann turned his back on Miyu and walked back towards the garage area, even though he knew Xavier would be displeased. Yet, incurring the wrath of the doctor had nothing on the combined annoyance of Miyu and Vincent, at least in his mind.

After watching Hartmann disappear into the garage, Vincent stepped up to Miyu, his colossal frame towering over her. "You should be sorry that you scared off the boss, because now you'll have to talk to me."

"Hey – I was just trying to have some fun," Miyu objected, raising her hands. "My boyfriend…I mean, _ex_ -boyfriend…is one on the higher-ups in Anthracite; and after he cheated on me last week, I've wanted an excuse to get out of the company. It looks like you guys gave me one, so…thanks. I'll tell you anything you want to know."

Fox looked at Vincent and made a request with him. "Can I ask her something?"

"Sure. Knock yourself out, little man," the shepherd replied.

Having never considered himself short, Fox winced in response to Vincent's remark. Masking his frustration, he turned towards Miyu and looked down at her. "Were you in Anthracite's main base yesterday?"

"Yeah?" Miyu replied, quizzically tilting her head.

"Did you see anyone bring in a red vixen?"

Miyu looked away from Fox and tapped her chin with her finger. "I did, actually. They took her to the lower level brig. Is she someone you know?"

"More or less," Fox answered. "We need to get her out of there."

"Well, good luck with that, 'cause it ain't going to happen."

Fox grimaced and crossed his arms. "We'll see about that."

* * *

 _-_ § _-_

* * *

While Vincent resumed probing Miyu for questions, Hartmann crept back into the garage, hoping to avoid being spotted by Xavier while he operated on Krystal's leg. He had a feeling that the cheetah wanted to be left alone due to the semi-invasive nature of the medical procedure, but figured that he would not mind having his leader in the room with him as long as he avoided interfering with his work.

To Hartmann's disappointment, he stepped on a rusty nail on the floor and created a faint ringing sound that attracted Xavier's attention. Turning his head towards the source of the disturbance, the feline chided Hartmann. "I thought I told you to stay out of here while I operated on her."

"The prisoner was pissing me off," Hartmann countered. "How's the surgery going?"

Xavier sighed. "I've had to put her under. I tried applying local anesthesia to her leg, but she wouldn't calm down. I should be able to get this bullet out of her leg and keep her alive now that her heart rate has dropped."

"That's good to hear. When will she wake up?"

"If you were wanting to get that information out of her today, you'd better plan to do it later. I'll be finished up here soon enough, but she won't be ready to talk until tomorrow morning at the earliest." He paused, then asked, "She's a pretty little thing, isn't she?"

Hartmann raised an eyebrow. "I'm not sure I'd call her 'little'. She's almost as tall as I am. I think with heels, she'd actually be taller than Fox."

"Heh – for some reason, I never thought of that." The cheetah picked up his set of small pliers and began sliding them into the incision that he had cut in Krystal's skin earlier, but then stopped and pulled them out. He turned towards Hartmann and adopted a concerned expression. "Did you ever think about what we're going to do with her when we don't have any use for her anymore?"

Hartmann gave his muzzle a pensive stroke. "I've actually had that on my mind ever since we got back. I guess it kind of depends on how much she's willing to tell us. I hate to say it, but it might be best to put her down after we're finished with her."

Judging from his posture and mannerisms, Xavier did not like that idea. "Wouldn't General Pepper or General O'Donoghue in Corneria have an interest in her since she's a spy for Mac-Central?"

"Really, Xavier – do you think she'll have anything else to say to them that she won't have told us already?"

"You're right," he admitted. "But at least by turning her over, we wouldn't have to kill her."

"I admire your respect for her life. I really do. But if we turn her over to Corneria, she'll end up in a prison somewhere; and then after a few years, she'll be let out with a camera following her every movement every day for the rest of her life. I honestly think the lethal injection would be a kinder option here," Hartmann replied.

As he shook his head, Xavier's ears rotated and fell flat against his skull. "Maybe we should let Fox make that decision for us."

"Why? Don't tell me you're hot for her," Hartmann scoffed.

"It's not that, Captain. I feel terrible for her. She's an awful spy. She broke the instant you threatened to shoot her. You heard what her CO called her – his 'worthless associate'. Even he knows that she's not good at her job. Maybe I'm holding out false hope for her, but I want her to have a chance to live a real life."

Hartmann took a long, drawn out breath, then replied, "I'll talk it over with Fox."

"Thank you," said Xavier.

* * *

 _-_ § _-_

* * *

The hours dragged past until night fell over Golstave. Having removed the bullet from Krystal's leg and cleaned up her wound, Xavier lifted her off the table and placed her body on the floor with her back pressed against the back wall inside the garage. The vixen groaned when he set her down, but made no other sounds as she slept, oblivious to the world around her thanks to the power of anesthesia. Xavier figured that she would wake up at some point during the night, so after resting her against the wall, he tied her hands and feet together, but not tightly enough to cause discomfort.

Stepping back, he gazed at Krystal's sleeping form until Hartmann prodded his shoulder and handed him a white blanket intended for Krystal. Xavier nodded and took the cotton sheet, then draped it over Krystal's body. Meanwhile, Fox, Miyu, and Vincent wandered back into the garage, having wrapped up Miyu's easy interrogation several hours ago. With nothing else to do until the next day, both Fox and Miyu sought out places to sleep while Vincent joined his two counterparts near the lunch table.

Watching Miyu climb into one of the vans and close the door behind her, Hartmann folded his arms and turned to Vincent. "Did you get anything out of her?"

"Everything, boss. As it turns out, she's angry at Anthracite and wants to make sure that our operation is a success."

Hartmann grinned. "Apart from the firefight in the warehouse, I'm having a hard time believing the incredible luck we've had so far." He clapped Xavier on the shoulder. "Xav, I think you've earned yourself some rest. Vincent and I will alternate shifts keeping watch tonight so you can sleep until the morning. I know you're not looking forward to it, so you might as well get a good night's sleep before the misery begins."

"Great. Thanks," the cheetah grunted. "I still don't know why you think having that green dork helping me tomorrow is going to do anything for us. He's going to end up being a liability – you just watch."

"Hey – it's a risk we're going to have to take if we want to make this infiltration happen. Just fight through it and try not to blow up in his face."

"Yeah, yeah. Sure," Xavier muttered, lying down on one of the lunch table's two benches and rolling onto his side. His spotted tail waved back and forth several times, then curled up on his leg as sleep overtook him.

With Miyu using one of the van's cargo areas as a makeshift bed, Fox opened the other van and climbed in. He took a deep breath and relaxed his muscles, then closed the side door as quietly as possible. With all the doors and windows shut, the noise in Fox's ears dropped to a whisper. He heard hints of a conversation between Hartmann and Vincent, but the sound was so faint that nothing registered in his ears apart from a faint, garbled series of mumbled syllables. He prepared to lie down in the back, but then he spotted both his and Scarlet's suitcases near the rear hatch.

" _I was wondering what happened to those."_

Just then, a faint 'beep' emanated from inside Scarlet's suitcase. Reaching into the back of the van, he pulled her bag forward and placed it on his lap. He unzipped the top of the suitcase, revealing Scarlet's extra clothes – virtually all catsuits and skimpy lingerie – and her smartphone. He felt guilty about it, but after checking the van for any occupants, he picked up the phone and pressed the power button on the side. The lock screen appeared, prompting him to enter a two-digit code before he could be granted access.

He all but gave up on trying to access the device, but one idea for a code came to his mind. _"If this works, Scarlet's going to hit a new all-time low with me."_ Shaking his head, he tapped in '69' on the keyboard. To both his amazement and dismay, the code worked, and the lock screen disappeared. He noticed an orange number '1' above the text messaging icon near the bottom of the screen, and he clicked on it to reveal a wall of contacts that Scarlet had recently associated with. Fox had the feeling that he did not want to know who most of them were. However, the contact at the top of the list – named 'Mom' – displayed one unread text. Beside the name was a small picture of a youthful-looking leopardess wearing a leather catsuit similar to the ones that Scarlet preferred.

As he opened the string of texts between Scarlet and her stepmother, a wall of sorrowful nostalgia hit him. The memory of his own mother came to his mind; and even though he knew that Scarlet had suffered tremendous abuse at the hands of her birth parents, he envied the fact that she had two living stepparents who cared enough to check up on her from time to time.

His eyes scanned the text, sent only a minute ago. As he did, his eyes became misty, and his concern for Scarlet's safety revealed itself.

" _Hey sweetheart, it's been awhile since you visited. Do you think you could stop by anytime soon? Your dad's taken up some new hobbies, and I think he wants you to see what he's been up to. But, if you're too busy, I respect that."_

Sighing, Fox tapped on the screen and wrote a simple response. _"I might be able to do that. I'll let you know later."_ Then, he hung his head and cursed himself for ever allowing Scarlet to be kidnapped, even though he knew that he likely would have been killed if he had stayed in the hotel room with her.

A moment later, Scarlet's stepmother replied to Fox's text, but he tried his best to ignore it and powered the phone off to save the battery. Tossing it back into Scarlet's perfume-scented suitcase, he zipped up the bag and placed it in the back of the van where he had found it. Then, he laid flat on the van's floor and closed his eyes. Exhausted from the day's events, sleep fell upon him within a few short minutes. But with it came what he feared most – the lucid recollection of his most recent tragedy.

* * *

 _-_ § _-_

* * *

" _Boss, the lieutenant general's telling me that the Fortunan embassy is under attack! All available Cornerian forces are tied up, so he wants us to take care of it. What's your command?"_

Fox's ears rotated in the direction of the massive cargo helicopter's cockpit, where a lanky red fox with piercing green eyes sat in the pilot's seat. To his right, his fiancée Fara rested her hand on his shoulder, while to his left, a fennec fox with yellow-dyed fur looked over her submachine gun for what seemed like the fiftieth time.

" _I didn't hear anything about that, Rafa. Wouldn't command have called me first?"_ Fox shouted above the sound of the churning helicopter blades.

" _Negative,"_ Rafa replied. _"They called through the chopper's main comms system. It's an emergency, boss!"_

Fox looked to his right and locked eyes with Fara. Then, he ordered, "Head to the embassy and put us down as close to the building as possible."

"Roger that, boss."

The helicopter suddenly rotated and picked up speed, shoving Fox into Fara's side. She sighed and squeezed his shoulder, then whispered into his ear, _"You know what? Let's not worry about trying to have a 'dream wedding'. With how much danger we put ourselves into on every mission, I would hate myself if one of us was killed before we got married all because I wanted to have an overblown wedding ceremony."_

" _I've been thinking the same thing, Fara. I didn't want to crush your dreams, though."_

" _Well, now you don't have to worry about that."_

Fox patted his future wife on the back and looked at the three other soldiers on the bench across from him. The first – a muscle-bound badger, fidgeted in his seat next to a snow-colored owl whose eyes seemed unable to look away from the yellow fennec seated next to Fox – likely due to her refusal to wear Foxfire Enterprises' normal combat uniform in spite of Fox's wishes. The third soldier opposite from Fox was a tiger who went by the name 'Namurr', and despite his prodigious build and posture that exuded enormous self-confidence, he acted as the most reserved and reclusive member of Fox's combat unit.

The helicopter began its descent, stopping with its wheels hovering two feet above the asphalt street in Northpoint's congested downtown district. Unclipping his seat belt, Fox jumped to his feet and shouted, "Everyone, follow me! Rafa – keep the chopper out of danger, but don't go too far. We might need a quick exit."

The vulpine nodded, then looked away from his leader through the helicopter's front window.

As he jumped out of the transport chopper, Fox stopped for a brief moment and surveyed the surroundings. Hundreds of civilian vehicles sat motionless on both sides of the street as a result of the earlier EMP detonation, and many of the cars that had rolled to a stop in the middle of the road had already been flattened or rammed out of the way by battalions of armored vehicles belonging to both the Cornerian and East Fortunan forces. The high-rise buildings surrounding him all looked to be relatively undamaged, but the sound of perpetual gunfire and the smell of smoke punctuated the air. The tall, sandstone-colored Fortunan embassy building stood a hundred feet away from him on the right side of the road next to a downtown police office.

Three Cornerian fighter jets screamed overhead while the rest of Fox's unit leaped out of the helicopter. The instant that the crew debarked, Rafa took off and navigated the chopper through a gap between two nearby skyscrapers. Fox pulled his assault rifle up to eye level and advanced towards the embassy, but as he neared the building, something felt wrong to him. Virtually no one apart from him or his unit seemed to be in the area.

" _Rena! Is your proximity scanner pulling up anything?"_ he shouted.

" _Negative, boss. It's still a prototype, though. It could be wrong."_

Checking his surroundings for any hostile soldiers, he advanced with his unit towards the marble steps in front of the embassy. Shattered glass from the entry doors and lower level windows littered the ground at the front of the building, and as he climbed the steps and crept into the embassy's front lobby, he noted the distinct lack of lighting caused by the EMP blast. His unit's boots crunched over broken glass inside the embassy, which seemed empty.

Fox led his team past the embassy's front desk and into a long corridor replete with numerous doors on both sides. On the floor near the end of the hallway close to the emergency stairwell, the body of a white canid laid motionless in a pool of his own blood. _"We've got one casualty,"_ he stated, glancing over his shoulder at the rest of his team. _"Rena, on a scale of one to ten, how much do you trust your proximity scanner?"_

The yellow fennec glanced at a rectangular device attached to her wrist and replied, _"About a 7. It's worked every time we've used it so far."_

Fox took another glance at the dead canine on the floor, then turned to face his unit. _"I'm putting a lot of faith in Rena's device, but this building seems empty. I don't know what Rafa was getting on about earlier, because if the embassy was under attack, we'd have run into more bodies by now. Something doesn't seem right here."_

" _Well, what do you want us to do about it?"_ the large badger near the head of the group snapped.

" _Split up into three teams of two and search the first three floors. Fara and I will check this floor, Rena and Namurr – you get the second. That leaves the third floor with Collings and you, Brutus. Make sure you keep your guards up. Something's wrong here, and it would be a mistake to deny that. Start sweeping the building now. When you're finished, report back to the front lobby."_

Acting on Fox's word, the unit broke up into twos, with all but Fox and Fara climbing the service stairs to the second level, as the elevators had ceased to function hours earlier. Fox looked at the corpse at his feet again, then muttered, _"There's something I need to check on here."_ Fara leaned on his shoulder and watched as he pulled his military phone out of his pocket and accessed the locational data on his team's transport helicopter.

Fara watched Fox's face adopt a grim, concerned stare that appeared to burn a hole in his phone screen. _"What the hell? I told Rafa to get the chopper out of immediate danger, not to leave the AO. He's almost out of the city entirely."_ Not wasting any time, he pressed a button on the side of his phone and shouted, _"Rafa, what are you doing? Get back here now! We're going to need an exfil here in just a few minutes!"_

Silence.

" _Rafa, I repeat – you need to get back here ASAP! What are you trying to pull this time?"_

Complete and utter radio silence plagued him, plunging the embassy's lower level into a sonic vacuum punctuated only by the sound of his teammates' boots on the floor above him. For a moment, he froze and stared at his screen. At the same time, Fara sprinted towards a service entry door inside the stairwell and forced it open like her life depended on it. Fox opened his mouth to ask what she thought of the situation, when a panicked scream pierced his ears. _"Fox! There's an entire pallet of ANNM in here! Get out of the building now!"_

Fox's instincts took over. Phone still in hand, he raced towards the front of the embassy, hoping and praying that Fara would move quickly enough to escape behind him. While running, he pressed the external button on his phone reserved for his team's universal comms channel and shouted the warning about the explosive threat. It came to no avail. A fraction of a moment later, a calamitous explosion erupted behind him. The tiled floor shook beneath his feet, and pieces of the ceiling fell around him. The growing sunlight from outside the building filled his eyes, but at the same time, the searing heat from the explosion engulfed him like an inescapable python of fire.

* * *

 _-_ § _-_

* * *

Fox awoke with a gasp and found himself in the back of Onyx's cargo van inside the abandoned Golstove auto factory. The first sensation that occurred to him was the icy feeling in his limbs. He struggled to sit up, but when he finally managed to move himself into an upright position, he pushed himself into a crouch and looked out the van's front window. Xavier still slumbered on the back of the lunch table's bench, while Hartmann rested with his back against the right wall. For the moment, Vincent kept watch over the motley group of mercenaries and the captive Krystal, still asleep with her hands and feet tied together.

Fearing what would happen if he returned to the world of dreams, he considered stepping out of the van and striking up a conversation with Vincent, but he thought better of it. So, he leaned against the inside of the sliding door and let his head fall to his chest. He knew he would drift off to sleep eventually if he did nothing, but the terror of having to relive Northpoint again chilled him to the bone.

In spite of his anxiety, he fell asleep after nearly an hour of trying to delay the inevitable.

* * *

 _AUTHOR'S NOTE(S):  
_

 _I think out of all the chapters I've ever written, this was one of the ones that I hated writing the most. The absolute worst was the wedding chapter in_ The Iridium Chronicle, _but after Hartmann stepped back into the garage, I just wanted this chapter to end so I could move on to the next one. The reason for that is because I'm extremely excited for the next two chapters, which should be filled with both action and idiotic interactions that seem to have become an (originally unintended) running gag with this story. This is really the weirdest story I've ever written. It deals with serious themes, but there's so little about it that I actually take seriously. I thought that I would eventually come up with some 'serious' cover art, but I'm not so sure that I won't end up doing something really stupid for it instead. Hmm...on that note, the holiday season is coming up, so it wouldn't be wrong to expect a Sierra Foxtrot Christmas episode to show up at some point in December._

 _As of now, the poll on Krystal vs. Scarlet is closed. It resulted in a tie, which I had absolutely nothing to do with. The results were 45% Krystal, 45% Scarlet, and 9% from Shep's polygamous vote. Sorry Shep - I guess no one else thought that was a good idea._


	10. The Van on Fire

**Arc II: Darker Matters**

 _Part 6: The Van on Fire_

After a rough night filled with nightmares, haunting memories, and worst-case scenarios related to Scarlet's situation, Fox awoke in the back of Onyx's van. Under normal circumstances, he would have struggled to get up after such a poor night of sleep, but because real life offered him more of an escape from his pain than his dreams did, he brushed off any thoughts of going back to sleep. Turning around and opening the van's side door, he stepped out of the vehicle and walked towards the lunch table.

He noticed Krystal, still seated with her back to the wall. However, this time, her spirit looked hopelessly and irrepressibly crushed. She kept her head lowered to her chest and refused to make a sound. Meanwhile, the three members of Onyx chatted amongst themselves at the table. Their serious, quiet voices suggested to Fox that their conversation centered either on Krystal's secrets or on the upcoming mission. Not wanting to intrude on them, he leaned against the side of the van and looked on.

However, Hartmann happened to glance over his shoulder and notice him. Breaking the conversation, he motioned for Fox to join them. Just then, Miyu emerged from the main factory floor area with a silly grin on her muzzle. "Guys – you're not going to believe what Slippy did to himself."

Xavier immediately cringed. "Oh no."

Approaching the lunch table, Fox looked towards Miyu and asked, "What did he do?"

"You're going to have to see it to believe it. I knew he'd need a disguise if he wanted to get into the base without reminding people of himself, but he took it to another level."

Fox raised an eyebrow, then commented, "You sure changed sides quickly. You were trying to kill us yesterday, and now you're trying to help us?"

"Hey – as I told you and Stoneface, I had been trying to get out of Anthracite ever since my douchebag ex-boyfriend cheated on me. I want my revenge."

Xavier pointed a finger at her, and with a distrustful look in his eyes, he muttered, "You'd better not try to pull something on us. Trust me, you'll regret it."

"I'm not pulling anything – except the stick that's up your ass, maybe," she replied.

Xavier bared his razor sharp teeth and started pushing himself out of his seat, but then a sound entered the garage. The noise contained a faint squeak, combined with the purr of an electric motor and the whirring sound of wheels. "Oh! Here he comes!" Miyu squealed, looking out of the garage and trying not to keel over in laughter. A moment later, a wheelchair rolled into the garage.

Fox tried not to laugh, but he – along with everyone else at the table – failed miserably. Although he struggled to keep his eyes focused on the source of the uproar, he managed to get a good look at Slippy and his ridiculous creation. The amphibian sat in a metal-flake blue wheelchair replete with chrome rims. An odd-looking implement jutted out from the back, and for the moment, Fox had no concept of what it did. But Slippy himself instigated far more laughter than his 'swag chair' did. Covered from head to toe with blue and black paint to make himself look like a poison arrow tree frog, he bore almost no resemblance his normal self.

A silver bike helmet with blue flames completed his ludicrous disguise, which contained the black shirt and black cargo pants that he had been wearing beforehand along with a tacky pair of dark sunglasses.

Amidst bursts of laughter, Fox gasped, "Slippy! What the…?"

Before Fox had the chance to finish his question, Slippy interrupted with a sensuous, baritone voice that caused everyone in the room to become silent out of mere shock. "I don't know who this 'Slippy' person is. I'm Skidd – Skidd Marx, that is. I'm here to give your computers my – shall we say – 'special touch'. You knoooow they want it."

"Fuck my life," Xavier lamented.

Seated next to the big cat on the bench, Hartmann clapped him on the shoulder and whispered, "It'll be over soon enough. Just hang in there, buddy."

Although Fox, Miyu, and Hartmann struggled to contain themselves, Vincent found little to laugh about. Folding his arms, he stood next to the lunch table and asked, "What does that idiotic wheelchair do?"

'Skidd' suddenly leaped out of the wheelchair and held out his hands as if to give Vincent a warning. "Look what you've done now. You've offended it!"

In front of the group's eyes, the wheelchair brandished its arm-like rear appendage and brought it forward. Only then did they realize that it contained a small missile launcher. Vincent growled in frustration, refusing to believe that he had actually managed to anger a wheelchair, of all things.

Then, the machine played a hoarse, robotic voice clip. _"Suck my missile, punk."_

"No! Don't do it, D-Wheelchair!" Skidd protested, jumping in front of the chair and waving his stubby blue arms about.

The wheelchair froze. Then, it retracted its missile launcher and replied, _"Command accepted, O Glorious Exalted Supreme Master of the Circuit Board."_

Fox pictured lines of unamused bystanders performing a long, slow golf clap in the garage. "D-Wheelchair? What's that supposed to mean?"

In the same low voice that he had introduced himself with (and never abandoned, for that matter), 'Skidd' purred, "It's a mystery, just like me and my magic touch that can turn a floppy disk into a hard drive with just one swipe of the hand."

Xavier considered pulling his handgun out of its holster and shooting himself. "Please, Fox – make him shut up. I'm going to lose my mind."

Finding Slippy's blue alter ego nearly as annoying as Xavier did, he nodded at the cheetah and walked towards 'Skidd.' "Slippy, can you tone it down a bit? This is really ridiculous. I think you took it too far this time."

The amphibian placed his hands on his hips and announced, "Skidd Marx don't break no character!"

"Alright, then. This is happening now," Fox huffed, marching over to D-Wheelchair and gripping one of its chrome wheel covers. To "Skidd's" chagrin, he tugged on it and ripped it clean off the rim. Throwing it across the room, he marched around to the other wheel and did the same. After disposing of the garish covers, he glared at 'Skidd' and demanded, "Take off that ridiculous helmet. Why would you need that for a wheelchair?"

Slippy's voice returned to normal. "Because it's a high performance wheelchair."

"Listen, Slippy. This is a serious operation we're about to start. If you're not going to take it seriously, I'm going to make you stay here and wait for us to finish."

"Fox! Please do that!" Xavier hollered.

"Ignore him," Fox continued. "I know you need a disguise so Anthracite will let you into the base, but you've got to tone it down. Can you do that?"

Slippy unlatched his helmet and nodded, albeit with a disappointed face. "Sure thing, Fox."

Fox turned his back on Slippy and walked back to the lunch table while the frog scooted out of the garage in his wheelchair and disappeared into the main factory. As he neared the table, his eyes wandered towards Krystal. He could tell that she was awake and alert, but her body language made her seem almost comatose. Although Xavier had cleaned her wound after removing the bullet from her leg, a sizeable blood stain covered the lower part of her purple dress. He stared at her for several seconds, assuming that she couldn't have cared less about him admiring her. Then, to his surprise, she opened her eyes and focused them on him. He looked away and glanced at Hartmann, only for his ears to pick up on the woman's voice. Except that his ears heard nothing at all – her voice seemed to penetrate straight to his mind.

" _Please – don't let them kill me. I know they want to do it. If you help me, I promise that I'll do anything you want me to. You can trust me, Fox."_

Trying to avoid drawing attention to himself, he turned his head towards Krystal and stared at her as if he had encountered a supernatural being among mere mortals. _"Are you a telepath?"_ he asked, using his thoughts and directing them towards her.

Krystal replied with a faint nod. _"Don't tell the others. They'll do terrible things to me if they find out."_

Fox frowned. _"Why should I try to keep them from killing you? You tried to have me assassinated, and Scarlet's in Anthracite's base right now because of you. I know you'll turn on me if I give you any leeway."_

Physically, Krystal curled up into a fetal position and hid her eyes from the world, while in her thoughts, she broadcasted a sorrowful message to Fox. _"I don't have anywhere to go anymore. These people made me tell them everything about my superiors, and my commander disowned me in the warehouse yesterday. The husky and the shepherd are going to kill me – I can feel it in their thoughts. You're the only person who can do anything to stop them."_

" _What do you want me to do about it?"_

" _Can you take me with you when you leave this place?"_ Krystal pleaded.

Fox looked away from her and folded his arms. _"I'll have to think about it."_

Sighing, he turned his attention towards the three people seated around the table. Still in shock after discovering Krystal's disturbing ability, he zoned out for a moment. That is, until Hartmann addressed him. "What's on your mind, Fox? You look like you've seen a ghost."

"Oh…I, um…" Fox jumped, scratching the back of his head. "I was just wondering what was going to happen to Krystal."

Hartmann looked across the table at Vincent, then stood up and whispered into Fox's ear, "Xavier doesn't want to do it, but Vincent and I were planning to kill her. We got all of her information out earlier this morning, and she's just going to become a problem if we don't do anything about her. I reason that it's better to kill her than to turn her into the authorities. She'll be less miserable that way. I say that one quick shot to the head is a lot kinder than years of torture behind bars in a Cornerian black site. You know how those intelligence agencies can be when they're not dealing with their own people. Still, I told Xav that I'd leave it up to you."

Fox admitted that his host had a logical point. For a moment, he wondered if he would have come to the same conclusion if he had been in Hartmann's boots. Nevertheless, something about the feverish pitch of Krystal's internal voice stabbed something soft inside of him. He hesitated for an awkward moment when he felt the sensation of Krystal's distress inside his mind. Then, he told Hartmann, "I'll take her with me when I leave Katina – assuming the Anthracite job goes well."

Hartmann looked at Fox like he had lost his mind. "You do know that she's been trying to kill you, right?"

"Yeah, but I don't think she's much of a threat right now. Just look at her. Not only that, but her boss pretty much gave her the boot in front of us, if you remember."

"That's true," Hartmann admitted, "But I still think taking her with you is a terrible idea. What do you plan on doing with her after you leave Katina? You know what would happen if you turned her into the Cornerian government, and I already went over why I think it would be better to just shoot her now."

Vehemently, Fox replied, "I'll figure something out. I'm going to take one thing at a time for right now."

"All right – if you say so," Hartmann chuckled. "Good luck with her, Fox. I really hope she doesn't get her hands on a knife and kill you."

Fox held his tongue while the husky turned his back and walked towards one of the vans. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed Krystal open her eyes and look at him. He noticed the gentle, grateful expression on her lips, then heard her mental approval of his actions. _"Thank you, Fox. I promise that I won't kill you."_

" _That's comforting,"_ Fox joked in response. His eyes lingered on the vixen's figure for an extra moment, eventually fixing themselves on the large blood stain that covered the lower part of her dress.

Noticing where Fox's gaze had landed, she mentally asked him, _"By any chance, do you have any extra clothes you could give me to wear? This dress is disgusting."_

Fox's thoughts drifted to Scarlet's suitcase in the back of Onyx's second van; and as much as he liked the idea of seeing Krystal wearing one of Scarlet's catsuits, he had the feeling that she would be less than thrilled about the prospect of slipping into one even though her current outfit was caked in dried blood. _"There are some clothes in Scarlet's suitcase, but almost all of them are catsuits. I don't think you'd want to wear those."_

Krystal flashed him a devious grin. _"You might be surprised. Can you carry me to the van?"_

Fox knew both Vincent and Hartmann would rebuke him for his actions, but in his mind, he saw no harm in letting Krystal change out of her soiled clothes. He stepped towards Krystal and picked her off the ground, prompting Vincent to turn around in his seat and bark, "Hey! What are you doing?"

"I'm taking her to the van so she can put on some clean clothes," Fox replied.

Next to the first van, Hartmann turned around and glared daggers at Fox. "If you're going to do that, you've got to get into the van with her. I am _not_ going to risk even the slightest chance of her pulling a crowbar or something out of the back and trying to escape with it. You hear me?"

"I got it," Fox replied. Still surprised by how little Krystal weighed, he reached the second van and pulled the side door open. He placed her on the floor inside the vehicle and closed the door before crawling into the back of the van where Scarlet's suitcase rested. Wrestling the heavy bag into the area behind the front seats, he turned his attention to Krystal and looked into her eyes. "I'm going to untie you so you can get changed. Please don't do anything that would make me change my mind about taking you with me."

"I won't."

Holding his breath and hoping that Krystal would keep her word, Fox untied the ropes holding her hands and feet together. The instant the twine fell from her limbs, she stretched on the floor and let out a deep, pleasurable breath. She feathered the hem of her dress and crossed her arms, but stopped when she noticed Fox averting his eyes. "Fox. Haven't you seen my pictures on the internet? I'm pretty sure you don't need to look away. Besides, I'm wearing my underwear today."

Fox's ears turned red. "I was just trying to be respectful."

"How kind of you," Krystal replied with a smile, grabbing the bottom of her dress and pulling it over her head. She tossed the blood-stained garment into the back of the van, then set to work unzipping Scarlet's suitcase. With the zipper opened, she folded over the top of the suitcase and peered inside. "Wow, you were right about the catsuits," she laughed. "Does she wear these things for everything?"

"Pretty much," Fox replied, trying to mask the frustration in his voice that came from the knowledge of Krystal's complicity in Scarlet's capture. Krystal pretended not to notice said frustration and dug through the contents of Scarlet's suitcase until her hand latched onto something. "I wonder what these are for?" she teased, holding up a mostly-empty package of AA batteries.

Fox cringed. "You might want to be careful where you put your hands in there."

"It's too late for that," Krystal groaned. "I should have just pulled out the first catsuit that I saw." Shaking her head, she pulled out a stretchy garment that matched her fur color. To Fox's surprise, when she held it up, he noticed that unlike Scarlet's normal catsuits, this one lacked a turtleneck collar. Instead, it sported a plunging neckline designed to reveal a substantial part of the wearer's chest, thereby making it even more provocative than Scarlet's usual attire.

Fox had no time to dissuade Krystal from trying it on as she wriggled into the blue catsuit and then pulled on the matching blue boots that went with it. Although it proved to be difficult, she managed to reach the tiny zipper in the back and seal herself into the taut-fitting suit without Fox's help. With her work completed, she zipped up Scarlet's suitcase again and leaned against the van's side door. "I look ridiculous, don't I?

"Not as much as you think," Fox replied. "I have a hard time picturing Scarlet wearing that, but it works on you. Just keep in mind that everyone is going to be staring at you when you leave the van."

"Everyone stares at me anyway. It's part of the curse of having naturally blue fur and being allergic to one of the main ingredients in fur dye," Krystal countered. "Hey – this feels comfortable. It's like wearing a glove. I think I could get used to this. Do you know where I could get one of these?"

"I don't think I want to know," Fox replied before he changed the subject. "I'm going to have to tie you up again so you can't try to escape while we take care of business with Anthracite. I'll be back for you in a few hours."

Krystal looked back at him with a pair of fearful eyes. "What if you don't make it back?"

"I hate to say it, but you'll probably starve to death if we all die or you'll be killed if I die and Hartmann or Vincent make it through. So…you'd better hope that I make it back."

He felt a tremor of fear shoot through his mind and recognized it as Krystal's fear, not his own. "I've had a pretty good run so far, though," he suggested, hoping to comfort her. "I'm not worried. The guys in Onyx are good, and I've dealt with tougher situations than this before."

"If you say so, Fox," Krystal grumbled. Fox reached for the ropes that Krystal had discarded, then tied her hands and feet together. He hated to do it, but he – and everyone else in the factory – knew that if she was allowed to roam freely, she would eventually find a way to escape. With the vixen bound, he opened the van and climbed out, carrying her in his arms. Hartmann stole a glance at her and raised an eyebrow as Fox carried her back to her position behind the lunch table.

When Fox had finished setting Krystal down, Hartmann called out to him. "It's nine, Fox. We've only got an hour until the IT tech is scheduled to arrive at Anthracite's base. The base itself is a thirty minute drive from here, so we need to hurry. Vincent, Xavier, Miyu, and Slippy will take the second van while we take the first up to the IT tech's current location. We're going to do a bit of sabotage to keep him from getting to the base. After that, we'll all pile into Vincent's van and use that one to get into the facility."

Xavier looked up from the table in front of him and spoke, "You realize that Anthracite isn't stupid. They're probably going to check the back of the van for suspicious cargo the instant we get into the base. Do you have any plans for that?"

Hartmann answered without hesitation. "I considered that, and I've got an idea. While Fox and I sabotage the IT tech's van, you and everyone else head to the nearest office supercenter and ask them for the largest cardboard boxes they've got. After we meet up, we'll hide inside the boxes – which you'll tape up, of course. After you get into the base with Slippy and Miyu, you and Slippy need to make sure that the boxes get brought into the base with a hand truck. Say something like 'They've got important equipment in them that we need to do our work' or something generic but kind of believable like that."

"It's not a _completely_ idiotic idea," Xavier conceded. "I'm still concerned about Slippy, though. There's no way they'll recognize him, but he still has me worried."

"If I'm honest, I'm worried too," Hartmann replied, crossing his arms. "It's something we'll have to get around, though."

Seated on the lunch table's bench next to Xavier, Vincent grunted, "Hey boss – what do you want me to do?"

The husky leaned against the side of the van and paused for thought. "Unfortunately, you look too suspicious, and you're way too big to fit inside a cardboard box, so you're not going to be coming into the base with us. When we meet up, take my van and hide it in the bushes somewhere near the Anthracite base. Stand by in case we need you, and be ready for anything."

The Alsatian gave his leader a grim nod, then looked over his shoulder at Krystal. "What about her?"

"Fox told me to leave her alive," said Hartmann. "Xavier will shoot her full of anesthesia before we leave so she won't be able to do anything until we get back. That should take care of that problem."

" _I still think we should just kill her,"_ Vincent thought to himself. _"Although that catsuit looks a little too good on her…"_

Fox noticed Hartmann climbing into the first van and jogged towards the vehicle while the husky started the engine and pressed a button on his overhead visor that opened the garage door behind him. He opened the side door, then climbed in and clipped in his seatbelt. Hartmann reversed the van out of the factory and onto the mostly silent road that ran in front of it. Closing the garage door, he accelerated the van to its cruising speed and exhaled.

At the first red light that he encountered, he wasted no time in entering the IT tech's address into the van's GPS system. The touchscreen froze for two seconds, then displayed a relatively straight route that estimated their time of arrival as 9:20. "We're only going to have about a five minute window of opportunity to sabotage the tech's van," he warned Fox.

Fox looked back at him. "What are we going to do? And who's going to do what?"

The traffic light turned green. After reaching the posted speed limit, Hartmann reached behind him and produced a set of heavy-duty bolt cutters. "One of us is going to get under the van and sever the wire leading from the battery to the starter solenoid. Whoever isn't doing that needs to loiter near the tech's front door and pester him if he comes out prematurely. It shouldn't take long, so there's no need to strike up a big conversation with him."

"I'm not that great with car parts," Fox admitted. "You'd better handle that part of it."

"Fair enough. You make sure that he stays detained if he leaves his office before we're ready."

"Got it. Something about this just doesn't feel right, though."

Hartmann gave Fox a faint smile. "I take it that you're not used to doing mercenary work that involves taking jobs outside of the battlefield." Fox shook his head, prompting Hartmann to add, "There's tons of freelance work out there, but most mercs will never find it because it looks too much like the work of a petty thief or an outlaw."

"Hmph. Now I think I know how Scarlet was able to keep a steady stream of jobs while I struggled to find my next big contract," Fox mumbled.

"She's an interesting one, isn't she?" asked Hartmann.

"You're telling me. Half the time, I want to strangle her; and the other half of the time, I start to think that she's actually fun to be around. Then she'll inevitably do something to piss me off again."

"You two would make a fun couple," Hartmann suggested.

A flash of anger appeared in Fox's eyes. "I hate it when people say that. Everywhere we go together, people call her my girlfriend. What makes it worse is that she doesn't care."

"That doesn't sound like a problem to me. I think all those people just realize that you two were made for each other."

Fox bit his lip and arched his eyebrows in response to Hartmann's comment.

The canine asked, "Do you have something against her? I mean, if our lines of work weren't completely incompatible, I probably would have married that girl by now. She makes everything interesting."

"I don't think Scarlet could ever get married. She's allergic to dresses," Fox scoffed.

"Well, I guess then she'd have to find a white catsuit to wear. It would be an interesting wedding, that's for sure. But in all seriousness, what don't you like about her? Did she do something to hurt you?"

The memory of the previous year's Christmas get-together came to Fox's mind, forcing him to wade through the mire of oppressive thoughts that he would have much rather left buried forever – notably, the hilariously inopportune timing of his attempt to propose to Fara. "I don't like to talk about this, but Scarlet did something at the end of last year that kept me from talking to her until my dad assigned her to a job with me a few days ago."

"What was it? Go on – I won't tell anybody."

Fox took a deep breath, suppressing some of his resentment towards Scarlet. "I was planning to propose to my fiancée Fara in front of the tree on Christmas morning, but when we walked into the living room, I found Scarlet – who my dad invited without telling me – sitting under the tree wearing wrapping ribbons and holiday bows with a tag hanging from her ear that said 'OPEN ME.' She completely ruined the moment, humiliated me in front of Fara, and made my entire day miserable. They both denied it, but I think she and my dad were conspiring to keep me from proposing to Fara. It wasn't any of their business to do that, and it makes me angry to this day."

Hartmann could tell that Fox found his Christmas story less than humorous, but despite his best efforts, a chuckle escaped his mouth. "Man, I'd open that present in a heartbeat." When Fox shot him a hateful, venomous glare, he apologized and added, "But I agree – if your dad and Scarlet set that up to keep you from proposing, that was out of line. But does your dad usually do things like that?"

"What are you getting at?" Fox barked.

"I'm suggesting that he may have known something that you didn't – or something that you wouldn't hear him out on. When I married my wife Jaclyn, her parents flat out told her that they would do anything they could to keep us from tying the knot. Knowing what I know now, they were actually right to do that. The reason they tried to keep us from getting married is because they knew the suffering and heartache each of us would have to endure if one of us was killed in action. They didn't want their daughter to marry a mercenary, and after having to live without her for over a year, I finally realized that they had a point. I never should have married her, but I was too in love with her to think straight."

Fox sighed and looked out the side window. "Now that you said that, Fara's parents weren't happy about her wanting to marry me, either. My dad seemed okay with it, but I could always tell that there was something about her that he didn't like. That's why I think he's been trying to bring Scarlet back into my life."

Hartmann shook his head and grinned. "Honestly, that is not something I'd complain about. Oh – we're here. Get ready."

Fox looked up as Hartmann slowed the van and turned into a small parking lot in front of a multiplex building that contained more than ten different small businesses and private offices. Four cars sat in the parking lot, positioned too close to the road for comfort. Of the four vehicles, Fox spotted only one van. Nevertheless, he struggled to understand why any self-respecting IT tech would ever drive around in such a distasteful vehicle. The van sported a light blue paint job with searing yellow and orange flames covering the hood and the door areas.

"Is _that_ the van?"

"Yep. That's it," Hartmann replied. "Part of the reason I'm glad Slippy built a wheelchair is because this IT specialist also uses one."

"Does his also have a missile launcher?"

"Not quite."

Fox's eyes widened. "Not quite?"

"Trust me – you don't want to find out. If we do this right, we won't have to. Alright – I'm going to park in front of the van and crawl under it from the back. That should attract less attention to us."

"You'd better be quick with the bolt cutters, Hartmann," Fox cautioned. "You couldn't have picked a worse place to do this. There's a huge shopping outlet right across the street from here. Someone's going to see you no matter how you do this."

"But no one will be able to do anything about it if I move quickly enough," Hartmann replied. "Okay – it's go time."

Stepping on the brakes, he parked the van in front of the tech's hideous vehicle in such a way that anyone on the first floor of the nearby building complex would be unable to see past the black van. He leaped out with bolt cutters in hand and rounded the front of his van, then dropped to the ground and started crawling underneath the tech's vehicle. "Fox! Start walking towards his office! It's on the right side of the building – first floor."

Fox climbed out of the black van and tentatively approached the nearby gray building, noting the numerous signs and names above each of the suite doors. _"Fresh Cutz Salon, Madame Camellia Palm and Tarot, Fort Brinks Lock & Key, Breitling – IT Specialist. There it is."_ As the seconds ticked by and his feet neared the specialist's front door, his heart rate increased. He imagined the glass-fronted door opening in front of him and pictured the IT tech demanding that Fox move the van out of the way of his vehicle – or worse, asking him why the van was parked there to begin with.

When he stepped to within ten feet of the door, he heard the sound of wires buzzing behind him. "Come on – let's go!" Hartmann shouted.

Trying to avoid looking overly suspicious, Fox turned around and broke into a brisk walk. He avoided looking over his shoulder even though he wanted nothing more than to do just that. He looked at Hartmann's van and noticed that the husky had taken the passenger seat, ostensibly so he could re-enter the van without running into the open with a set of blood red bolt cutters. As he neared the black van, Fox knew in his mind that the office door would open behind him. Still, he refused to look back. Gripping the door handle, he jumped into the driver's seat and shifted the van into gear. As he drove past the IT tech's office, the door swung open. He knew better than to make eye contact with the tech, so he looked past Hartmann out the right side window in time to pick out a police car among the swarm of pedestrian vehicles.

"That was _way_ too close," Hartmann admitted. "I'm sorry I made you come with me on this."

"Nah – it's fine. We got the job done, and we didn't get stopped. The one thing that I'm worried about is that the tech is going to call Anthracite when he finds out that he can't start his van. If he reschedules with them and we show up pretending to associated with him, our cover will be blown."

Hartmann put his bolt cutters in the footwell in front of him and leaned back in his seat. "That's not going to happen. You see, Anthracite doesn't take too well to setbacks and cancelations. That tech will be pissing himself trying to get his van to start, let alone telling Anthracite that he's going to be late. As long as we move quickly inside the base, we should be fine." He paused, then said, "Now it's time to meet up with the others to switch vehicles. Are you ready for this, Fox?"

"Absolutely."

* * *

 _AUTHOR'S NOTE(S):_  


 _Believe it or not, "Skidd Marx" was even more over the top before I proofread the chapter and decided that he needed to be toned down. I think I made the right move. The next chapter might take a bit longer to write, as I would like to put the entirety of the Anthracite base infiltration into one chapter. (Nov. 24, 2015 edit - whoops...that didn't happen)  
_

 _Now, let me get to those guest reviews:_

 _Guest:_ _It is silly to call a plot boring for following certain canon traditions, BUT I'm going to make an exception to that for instances where the vast majority of writers in the fandom follow the same traditions over and over and over and over and over and over and...you get the idea. Fox and Krystal is pretty much the only major hetero pairing in the Star Fox archive, and it starts to get old when their relationship is portrayed the same way by nearly everybody. However, Krystal as an enemy spy does indeed offer a different kind of relationship with Fox, if they ever get to that point._ _  
_

 _XxWolfMan95xX:_ _You know, I've wanted to read a Fox McCloud x OC love story for a while, but they simply don't exist. Well, Sheppard Studios has one with a tentative Fox x human OC pairing (which isn't really my thing), but I'm not sure I'd count that. I've mentioned the idea of a Fox x OC pairing to another author at one time or another, and he wasn't too fond of the idea. Maybe that says something about why it hasn't really been done. However, I'm not going to make any public announcements on who Fox ends up with, if he ends up with anyone at all._

 _Also, you may have noticed the new 'Humor' tag on this story. Thanks to something Sheppard from Sheppard Studios mentioned to me, I realized that the humor was a big enough part of this story to be listed as one of its primary genres._


	11. Heart of Darkness, Act 1

**Arc II: Darker Matters**

 _Part 7: Heart of Darkness, Act 1  
_

Fox pulled off the avenue and entered the sprawling parking lot in front of an office supercenter decorated with red fascia. Amidst the numerous vehicles in the parking lot, he spotted the identical van belonging to Hartmann's teammates. He navigated through the parking lot, then pulled into the spot next to the van. Leaving the engine running, both he and Hartmann opened their doors and climbed out.

Upon seeing their leader, Xavier and Vincent jumped out of the other van; and the former of the two opened the back to reveal two oversized cardboard boxes. "There are your boxes," he announced, pointing to the slabs of white cardboard with silver pineapple logos emblazoned on them.

Hartmann sneered. "You had to get the Pineapple boxes, didn't you? What a fanboy. You'll probably be up at five in the morning standing in a mile-long line to buy the new iComm 15S Pro Air when it comes out next week."

"No – I'll be up at five the _previous_ morning to stand in line," Xavier corrected.

"I swear, you Pineapple fanatics are practically a religious cult," Hartmann chuckled. Shaking his head, he reached into the back of the van and pulled the oversized boxes closer to himself. As he did, he revealed Miyu, who had seated herself against the left door. "Alright, looks like it's time to see if I can fit in here. I'm going to tilt this thing onto its side so you can tape up the bottom. Got it?"

Xavier pulled a tape roller out of a bag and readied it while Hartmann shimmied into the opened box. _"This is ridiculous,"_ he mused. "Taping the box. Now's the time to make sure you didn't leave anything in your van."

"I think I'm good to go," Hartmann replied. "Seal me up."

"Okay…" With the husky curled up inside the sideways box, Xavier closed the bottom and applied more tape to it than anyone would have thought necessary. Then again, most computer boxes weighed less than 190 pounds, and it most definitely needed the extra reinforcement. Completing his tape job, Xavier grabbed the box and pushed it over. Hartmann grunted from inside his cardboard confines as his weight collided with the van's floor and caused the suspension to vibrate.

"Hey, can you poke some air holes in here?" he joked.

Xavier ignored him and turned to Fox, who was staring at the other Pineapple Computers box. "Do you need to bring anything with you into the base? I mean, it is a box after all. You might as well put something in it besides yourself."

Fox stroked his muzzle. "Hmm…I'd better bring a catsuit for Scarlet. She was taking a bath when I left her in the hotel room, so she might have been captured naked."

Hartmann's box shook. "Say _what_?"

"Oh nothing," Fox replied, waving his hand even though he knew Hartmann would never see it. "She's probably dressed now, but if I know her well enough, she's going to want to change into her own clothes at the first chance she gets."

"It's a valid point," said Xavier. "Make it quick, Fox."

Noticing Scarlet's suitcase next to Miyu, he motioned for her to hand it to him. The lynx shoved the heavy bag in Fox's direction, barely missing Hartmann's box. Thanking Miyu, Fox unfastened the zipper, then picked his way through the contents of her suitcase with a level of caution that hinted at his fear of accidentally finding a battery-powered 'something' that he expected Scarlet to pack with her luggage. He snatched up the first catsuit that he saw – the gray 'utility' catsuit that she had worn to General Pepper's meeting in Corneria – and tossed it into the open box adjacent to Hartmann's. As he closed up the suitcase, Xavier asked him, "Is that really all she wears?"

"Unless she absolutely _has_ to wear something else, the answer is yes. Oh, believe me – I've given up on trying to figure it out for a while now. I don't know why she likes those things so much. Well, maybe it's because all the guys do."

"I think you're onto something," Xavier replied. "Now get into the box. We're in danger of running late."

Fox glanced at his watch and cringed. Only fifteen minutes remained until ten o'clock, and the trip was supposed to take at least twenty minutes based on their current location. He pulled himself into the box with Scarlet's catsuit, which he had to admit smelled incredible. The odd mixture of her own perfume and the catsuit's spandex, polyester and cloth combination stimulated his senses and gave him a faint feeling of euphoria. Seconds later, Xavier taped up the bottom of the box and pushed it over. Fox slammed into the side of the box as it hit the van's cargo floor, but the cardboard held fast and refused to break.

With his world darkened, he listened as the van's double back doors slammed shut. Then, Xavier started the engine and lunged out of the parking lot so aggressively that Fox felt his box slam into the side of the van.

"Hey Xav – fragile contents back here!" Miyu shouted.

"Shut up! We're late, and you know what happens if we show up late!"

Fox expected Miyu to make another snarky comment, but the seriousness of their situation caused a deep, anxious silence to fall over the van. As Xavier meandered through traffic and picked up speed, Fox wondered what role Vincent would play in the operation. He hoped that the giant's job as a vague emergency fallback plan would be unnecessary, but part of him feared that something about the operation would run afoul. More so, he worried about Krystal. Despite having been subdued by Xavier's anesthesia back at the factory, he worried that she would wake up and find a way to reach out to someone outside the building with her telepathy. In honesty, he wanted her to still be inside the factory when they returned after completing the operation because something about her lit a spark inside of him.

He knew that he could not keep her with his team, but he did have an idea of where he could take her after leaving Katina. _"Fara's funeral is going to be in Warton, and my family has a big piece of land in that area with a log cabin on it. There's not a whole lot there, but it would be enough for Krystal to get by on. If I did that, I wouldn't have to worry about her being a liability to my team, and I wouldn't have to turn her in to the Cornerian government. I doubt Scarlet would like that, but I think it's the right thing to do."_

He felt the van accelerating and deduced that Xavier had pulled onto an interstate. His suspicions were confirmed when the cheetah announced, "There are only three exits left until the one that leads to the base. Once we hit the back roads, I'll really be able to open it up and make up some of our lost time."

Despite being inside a box, Fox could feel Xavier's stress at the wheel. All the while, the scent of Scarlet's clothing continued to inundate his senses. The fragrance her catsuit possessed smelled indescribably fresh, which surprised him somewhat. Ever more than that, however, the hint of her perfume that laced it filled him with a form of ecstasy that subliminally caused him to reconsider his earlier 'no relationship' statement.

The van suddenly moved to the right, then stopped at what Fox believed was a traffic light at the top of the exit leading to the base. After waiting for the light to turn green, Xavier turned left and mashed the gas pedal. "Hey boss, you'd better buckle up back there! Oh wait – you're in a box."

Hartmann knew that the back roads north of Golstave were usually not heavily traveled, but he still worried about Xavier's lead-footed driving. Away from the city, the risk of wild animals running into the road increased; and even though it seemed unlikely, any police officers in the area would gravitate to the speeding van the same way that Scarlet reacted to tight, stretchy clothing. His thoughts came to a halt when Xavier threw the van into a tight corner at over sixty miles an hour. He swore that he could feel one of the van's wheels lift off the ground. "Xav! Calm it down a little! It's better to be a tiny bit late than to never show up in the first place because you wrecked and killed us all!"

"Fine!" the feline snarled. "Oh…shit."

"What?" Hartmann demanded, the sound of his voice masked by his box.

"There's a police car behind us, and it just turned its lights on. Dammit, dammit, dammit! We're still three miles from the base! I've got to pull over! Of all the times for this to happen, why did it have to be _now_?"

Hartmann sat in silence, not wanting to incense his driver even further. Gradually, the van rolled to a stop as the sound of a police siren filled the air. When the van had stopped completely, Xavier punched the steering wheel and gritted his teeth. He glanced in his mirror while the police officer climbed out of his car. His grief turned to shock shortly thereafter. For starters, the police officer was a 'she', and was also a red vixen who bore a disturbing similarity to Scarlet. Instead of a traditional black police uniform, she wore a badly undersized khaki vest over a blue tube top that revealed most of her stomach, along with stretchy blue tights that wouldn't have looked out of place in one of Scarlet's outfits. The only clue that remotely suggested her occupation was the gold badge pinned to her jacket.

"Whoa. That is the hottest cop I've ever seen," Xavier gasped, his mouth agape.

In the passenger's seat, 'Skidd Marx' stared at the officer out of Xavier's mirror with some suspicion. "I thought Halloween happened a few weeks ago, because she don't look like a real cop. Well, even if she isn't, she can trick or treat me any time of the year."

"Yeah, good luck getting her to 'trick or treat' you in a wheelchair," Xavier scoffed.

"Hey – cripples need love too," 'Skidd' purred in retort.

Unable to see anything, Hartmann pounded the side of his box in frustration. "Why did I have to be in a box? Why?"

"Hartmann, shut up!" Fox snapped. "If you keep talking, the police will search the van, and then we'll be in even more trouble."

"Fine, Fox."

The boxes became silent as the vixen approached Xavier's left side window and ordered him to roll it down. Crestfallen, the feline pressed the button to lower the window and hunched over in his seat.

"Do you know how fast you were going?" the officer spat, her voice dripping with a Romantic accent.

"Not fast enough," Xavier mumbled.

Irritated by Xavier's response, the vixen hardened her expression and barked, "What business do you have going 67 in a 45 mile per hour zone?"

Xavier clenched his fists and shouted, "We're running late, and if we don't show up on time, our boss might literally kill us."

"Oh, I'm sure," the officer sneered, rolling her eyes. "Let me see your license and registration."

A whimper escaped from Xavier's lips. He reached for the passenger's side glove box and opened it, only to find a pile of crumpled papers, a road map, and some oil-covered work gloves. "Skidd, can you help me find the registration?"

"Sure," the blue frog replied. Digging into the glove compartment, he pulled out three different papers, one of which looked like the registration card that Xavier sought. He uncrumpled the paper, then looked to his left when the noise of a racing engine reached his ears. Locking eyes with the clingingly attired vixen, he joked, "Hey officer, looks like you've got another one to take care of."

A second later, the blue, flame-covered van from earlier sped past them, missing the officer by mere feet and spitting gravel from its wheels. Xavier shielded his eyes from the spray of small rocks; and when he had regained his composure, he looked out of his window only to find that the vixen had already vaulted into her police cruiser and reactivated the siren. The sound of tires grinding against the gravel on the side of the road filled the air. Xavier watched as the police car sped away from him, hell-bent on stopping the blue van that began to disappear into the distance.

"Hey boss, didn't you sabotage that van earlier?" Xavier asked.

Hartmann's cardboard-tinged voice emanated from inside his box. "What did it look like?"

"Blue with yellow flames. The officer abandoned us just to chase it down."

"How the hell…? How did he fix the starter cable that quickly?"

"I don't know," Xavier answered. "Whoa – you've got to see this."

"I'm in a box, dammit!"

In the distance ahead of them, the police car pulled alongside the blue van and swerved into its left rear quarter panel. The PIT maneuver caught the van's driver off guard, but he fought back and regained control of his vehicle. Xavier and Skidd watched in horror as the duo neared a narrow concrete bridge up ahead. The officer refused to relent in her psychotic attempt to stop the van and attacked the rear quarter panel again. The van's driver yanked the steering wheel to the right, but found himself powerless to prevent himself from being spun out a hundred feet from where the bridge began. With both vehicles still traveling at fifty miles an hour, the van skidded off the road and disappeared off the left side of the bridge. With her vision having been blocked by the side of the van as she attempted to immobilize it, the vixen officer had no time to avoid falling victim to the same fate. She attempted to swerve back onto the road, but her tires found no purchase on the roadside grass. Cursing herself for her impulsiveness, she disappeared from Xavier, Miyu, and Skidd's view.

With eyes wide, Xavier gasped, "I hope she's okay."

A moment later, an explosion ripped through the air. A massive fireball erupted from beneath the bridge and rose into the sky while Xavier's jaw dropped in horror.

The cheetah sat with his mouth frozen open for half a minute until Miyu yelled, "Xavier – now's our chance! Drive as fast as you can!"

Xavier snapped out of his shock-induced coma and accelerated back onto the road. He resumed the same breakneck pace as before, although at this point, he needed all the help that he could get. As he crossed the bridge, he looked over the edge in hopes of discovering what had happened to the van and the police officer, but all he saw was a surging river and the trees that stood on both sides of it.

Traffic all but disappeared from the road as Xavier neared the base, and the altitude increased. Navigating a set of tight switchbacks, he came to a stop at a fork in the road. To the right, a 'DEAD END' sign greeted him; but to the left, a private road appeared. No gate blocked his entrance, but a yellow sign next to the road declared, "All traffic on this road monitored by camera."

Xavier looked at Skidd and sighed, "I guess this means that Vincent is going to have to get creative if he wants to make it up here."

Glancing at the van's internal clock, he noted the time – 9:58 AM. _"I'd better make sure I finish strong here. This base might be a few miles up the road."_ He turned the van onto the unmarked road and gunned the throttle, eliciting a subdued roar from the engine. The trees on both sides of the road whisked past for a quarter of a mile, then came to an abrupt end. To the right, a lake stood in front of a large complex made of concrete and steel. The lake ended in an enormous dam, over which a long bridge had been constructed.

As Xavier raced across the bridge, he spotted the Anthracite complex's front gates up ahead. Entering the mild curve that led to the road's end, he slowed the van and looked over his shoulder at Miyu. "When you get out, try to relieve the guard at Scarlet's cell. Do you have a locker in this base somewhere?"

"Yeah, I've got one," Miyu replied. "Why does that matter?"

"If you've got any extra Anthracite uniforms in there, you need to make sure Scarlet gets one. Otherwise it'll be impossible for her to get out of the base."

Miyu observed her own figure, dressed in one of the aforementioned Anthracite combat uniforms. "Um, how big is Scarlet? My spare uniform might not fit on her."

Knowing that Xavier lacked the information Miyu needed, Fox spoke through his box. "Scarlet's five foot ten; and unfortunately, I don't think she's as thin as you are, either."

Miyu let out a tense sigh. "Ooh...that might be a tight squeeze."

From inside his box, Hartmann chuckled, "That sounds like something Scarlet would enjoy."

Xavier attempted to ignore the numerous possible meanings for Hartmann's comment and shook his head to prevent himself from showing any visible frustration. Responding to Miyu, he said, "That's too bad, but try to get her to fit into it anyway. She won't have to wear it for long."

Reaching the front gate, Xavier noticed its accompanying security booth; and with it, two soldiers who stood in front of it with assault rifles in hand. When Onyx's van rolled to a stop in front of the gate, one of the two soldiers walked in front of the van and approached Xavier's window.

Xavier locked eyes with the Dalmatian soldier and rolled down his window. Not giving the canine the opportunity to speak first, Xavier explained, "We're with Breitling's IT service, here to work on your base's security system.

The soldier gave him a long, piercing stare that set Xavier's nerves on edge and made him fear that the mission had been compromised already. But then, the Dalmatian gave the other guard in front of the security booth a thumbs up and commented, "And not a moment too soon. The boss would _not_ have liked it if you had shown up late – trust me on that."

"Oh, there was never a doubt," Xavier replied, waving his hand as if his chaotic trip had been as leisurely as a drive to the local grocery store.

"Come on in," the guard grunted. A second later, the oversized, wheeled gate rolled open from the left, revealing a large concrete pad where a smattering of cargo vehicles sat. As he drove into the base, Xavier noticed a heavy-duty helicopter gunship parked on the right side of the outdoor pad, just inside the base's fifteen foot high reinforced concrete walls that featured rolled barbed wire mounted to the top.

Behind the driver's seat, Miyu glanced out the front window and pointed to an empty parking space underneath a second level balcony patrolled by three soldiers. "Over there. Back into that spot so I can get out without anyone noticing that I was in here. Make it quick!"

"Okay, okay!" Xavier huffed. As the van had no rear windows, he was forced to use the vehicle's oversized mirrors to help him reverse into the spot that Miyu requested. Out the front windshield, he noticed three men walking towards his van. At the moment, two hundred feet separated them, but he knew that if Miyu was to slip out of the van without drawing any attention to herself, he would have to move quickly. Hoping that no one would walk behind the van, he stomped on the gas and backed into the spot. The instant the van came to a stop with its rear doors five feet from the wall behind it, Miyu opened the side door and leaped out before darting behind the nearest corner.

The three men drew closer; and as they neared the van, 'Skidd' recognized the imposing lupine in the lead as his former employer, Wolf O'Donnell. A sadistic part of him desired to open fire on him and end his life then and there, regardless of what that would mean for him or the van's other occupants. Nevertheless, he refrained and hoped that his disguise would prevent Wolf from recognizing him. He figured that it would, but he was far from one hundred percent certain about it.

Despite being part of a unit that both he and those familiar with it would have called 'elite', Xavier felt intimidated by Wolf. As he neared the van, his two husky bodyguards broke away from him and stood on opposite sides of the van.

" _Okay. Go time,"_ Xavier whispered to himself.

When Wolf stepped to within ten feet of his door, he opened the van and stepped out, extending his hand for Wolf to shake. In return, the tall lupine clutched his hand and grasped it with vice-like force so intense that he felt his circulation being cut off. "Thanks for getting here on time. Marcel and Liam will show you to the security center," Wolf stated.

"Oh – t…thank you, s…sir," Xavier stuttered. "If you don't mind, we've got two boxes filled with diagnostic equipment. Can you find some hand trucks for us so we can haul them to the security center?"

Wolf crossed his arms. "You got anyone else with you?"

That question answered itself when Skidd Marx rolled out from behind the van and stopped at Xavier's side. Wolf's eyes narrowed upon seeing the blue frog, and Xavier threatened to panic when he noticed the lupine baring his teeth. The towering wolf and the 'crippled' arrow tree from locked eyes; and for a moment, time stopped. A western theme whistled through the air as Wolf's icy eyes met "Skidd's" cheap black hip hop shades. As the seconds ticked by, Xavier half expected one of them to draw a chrome revolver and shoot the other, even though neither of them appeared to be armed.

A moment later, Wolf ended the silent confrontation and turned his attention back to Xavier. "Fine. We'll take care of your boxes. It's not our problem if your gear breaks, though."

"That's fine," Xavier replied. While Wolf's two bodyguards – named Liam and Marcel – grabbed a pair of nearby hand trucks and walked towards the van, his thoughts turned inwards. _"Man! Why am I so unnerved by him? After working with Vincent for years, I shouldn't be bothered by that guy."_

A pair of frustrated yelps from behind the van broke his concentration.

"Damn! These things are heavy as shit!"

"What is this so-called 'diagnostic equipment' made of? Depleted uranium? I can barely even pick this one up!"

Leaving 'Skidd' in front of the van, Xavier sprinted underneath the covered balcony, where Marcel and Liam struggled with the Pineapple boxes. "Here – let me help you guys with those." He placed his hands on Fox's box first and prayed that the tape on the bottom would hold. Marcel helped lift the box out of the van; but even so, the box's overwhelming weight still posed a challenge for them. When it reached the ground, Marcel slid his hand truck underneath it and moved towards Hartmann's box.

Sweat began forming on Xavier's forehead. Hartmann weighed at least twenty pounds more than Fox did, and even though he had used nearly half a roll of tape on the bottom of the box, he feared that it would still find a way to break. Turning to face Liam, he warned him, "This one is heavier. Don't hurt yourself."

"Too late for that," the canine spat. "Let's get this over with."

Both he and Xavier gripped Hartmann's box and manhandled it out of the van. As it left the rear of the vehicle, Xavier berated himself for not taking weight training as seriously as his two teammates did. _"Well, it could be worse. Vincent could be in this box. That thing wouldn't even be movable."_

Then, the most agonizing sound possible reached Xavier's ears – the sound of tape ripping. He had no time to act. Taking his hands off the box, he yelled, "Just drop it here!"

Liam complied and released the box, which fell two feet to the asphalt below with a suspicious 'thump.' Xavier thanked his stars that Hartmann had managed to avoid making any noises, but he knew that the lack of a crashing sound would make Wolf's soldiers suspicious. As he suspected, Liam gave the box a perplexed glance and commented, "That was a pretty soft landing for something that heavy."

"Ah, well, that box is padded," Xavier replied. "Don't worry – I don't think you broke anything."

Liam glared at Xavier, then at the box at his feet. "I'm going to need to open this."

Resisting the urge to panic, Xavier stepped towards the box and slid the other hand truck underneath it. "Don't waste your time. We're going to have to open them in the security center anyway."

The husky looked at him out of the corner of his eye. Suspicion riddled his countenance, and Xavier could tell that part of him suspected that the box contained something other than diagnostic equipment. After pausing to consider his options, Liam replied, "Fine. But I want to know what's in there."

"We're going to use all of this gear, so you'll get to see what's inside," Xavier reassured him.

* * *

 _-_ § _-_

* * *

While Xavier and 'Skidd' made their way to the security center, carrying Fox and Hartmann's boxes on hand trucks, Miyu slipped into the Anthracite base's crew quarters. The base's hallways seemed empty enough – after all, the base only held fifty soldiers and was larger in terms of size than some state-run military installations. Still, she felt like multiple pairs of eyes were upon her at all times as she walked through the narrow hallways inside the base. Upon reaching a door marked "Women's Locker Room," she stepped inside and closed the door behind her. She let out a deep sigh to calm herself, then moved towards her locker. She heard the sound of a shower being used in the space adjacent to the main locker room floor, but apart from that, no noise stood out to her.

" _I never signed up for this. If I wanted to, I could seriously betray those Onyx guys and get my old life back today. It would be so easy. Maybe it's what I need to do? Wolf always paid me well, and if I'm honest with myself, I only volunteered to help Onyx because I'm still bitter about my ex-boyfriend cheating on me. Is having to see him from time to time really a good enough reason for me to betray Wolf?"_

The lynx approached her locker and entered the lock combination on the door. After the three numbers had been entered, the door swung open to reveal one extra set of Anthracite military fatigues.

" _If I go through with this plan, what'll happen to me? Will I end up unemployed with a target on my back like Slippy did? Maybe Fox would take me in? He told me that he was trying to rebuild his mercenary unit, but what do I have to offer him? I'm just a grunt. I'm okay with a gun, and that's it. At least Slippy has a unique talent to offer. You know what? That settles it. I'm turning them in."_

She reached for her phone to call Wolf, but then another thought occurred to her. _"Hold on a second. If I betray Onyx, how do I know that Wolf won't shoot me anyway? If I know Wolf, I know the one thing he can't stand is a traitor."_

Miyu sighed, then lowered her head to her chest. _"I guess I've got no choice but to stay the course. Time to meet this 'Scarlet' woman."_

She reached into her locker and pulled out her extra uniform, then slammed the locker shut before she left the locker room and stepped back into the hallway outside. At the end of the corridor, two alternate paths opened up to the left and right. From memory, she recalled that a set of stairs to the left led to the brig. Trying to look natural, she neared the end of the hallway and turned left only to find the one person that she wanted absolutely nothing to do with.

Her ex-boyfriend, Panther Caroso.

The large, black-furred feline looked at her with piercing yellow eyes that dripped with emotional distress. From his appearance alone, Miyu realized that he regretted his relational infidelity with her and had likely come to ask for forgiveness. This, however, was one of the worst possible times for him to do that.

"Miyu! I was so worried about you!" he emphasized, holding his hands out to her. While Miyu took a nervous step back, he added, "When I heard what happened to your unit, I couldn't sleep. I couldn't even eat. I realized that I had made a terrible mistake by taking Felicity over you. Is there anything I can do that would ever make you forgive me? I miss having you, my precious little lynx."

Miyu inched closer to Panther. Her face softened until she looked at him with kawaii eyes, complete with wobbly tears that hung in them for some reason unknown to the laws of physics. Panther returned her expression, pleading with his eyes for her to take him back.

Then, Miyu's eyes suddenly took on a devious, evil glint. "No, you douchebag! We're through!" With that, she kicked him between the legs, making sure to hit his manhood with the reinforced front part of her combat boot. While Panther fell to his knees and let out an ear-piercing shriek, Miyu pushed past him and raced down the stairs to the brig.

Distancing herself from Panther's 'yowls', she entered the base's small prison area that contained four cells – two on each side of the hallway. At the moment, only one of them saw any use. A female opossum stood in front of the first cell to the left, and behind her, a red-furred vixen rested on the small prison mattress inside the enclosure. The instant Miyu entered the area, the opossum abandoned her post and jogged towards her. "Please, Miyu – can you take my post for me? This woman is driving me absolutely crazy. I'll give you 50 credits to do it." When Miyu gave her a suspicious look, the opossum grabbed her arm and shook it repeatedly. "Please! Help me!"

Miyu slapped her comrade's arm and took an irritated step back. "I'm not sure I want to do that. What did she do to put your panties in such a wad?"

The opossum's eyes screamed with terror. "I…I can't even talk about it. Please, Miyu, help me out. This woman is evil."

Miyu looked around her co-worker in time to see Scarlet sit up on her bed and give her a devious grin. Returning her attention to the opossum, Miyu replied, "Alright – I'll help you out this once. You don't even have to pay me."

Miyu did not even have the chance to step forward before the opossum threw her arms around her and squeezed her to the point of asphyxiation. "Thank you! You're the best, Miyu!" After nearly choking her in excitement, the opossum handed over her prison keys and sprinted out of the brig. With the area to herself (and Scarlet, of course) Miyu sauntered up to the vixen's cell and looked at her. In spite of the baggy orange prison jumpsuit that she wore, her 'assets' still managed to make themselves known.

" _Whoa. Now that is one good looking vixen."_

From inside the cell, Scarlet crawled to her feet and approached Miyu. She gripped the bars at the front of her cell and licked her lips, then commented, "Ah, another guard. I never cease to be amazed with how easy it is to torment people like you."

Unfazed by Scarlet's advance, Miyu kept a straight face and explained, "Listen, Scarlet – I'm here with your friend Fox. We're going to get you out of here."

Scarlet's sly smile disappeared, replaced by a wide-eyed, shocked expression. "Really? He's here?"

"That's right," Miyu replied. "I brought you some clothes to help you blend in. Here – put these on." She handed her extra fatigues to Scarlet, who reluctantly claimed them and hid them under her pillow.

"Did you want me to get changed now, or does Fox have something planned?"

Miyu took a quick glance at the stairwell to her left and then admitted, "Well, Fox brought one of your catsuits with him. He'll be down here soon, if you really just _have_ to have it."

"Oh, I do," Scarlet smirked.

Just then, two sets of boots clapped down the brig stairs. Miyu's ears perked up, and she turned her back to Scarlet to make it look like she was standing guard over the cell. The sound of boots grew closer until their owners appeared in the brig's doorway.

Scarlet raised her eyebrows in surprised glee. "Bruno? What are you doing here?"

* * *

 _AUTHOR'S NOTE(S):_

 _Whoops. I remember saying that I planned on making the entire infiltration one whole chapter. Unfortunately, while I had expected to write an 8,000 word chapter, I discovered that it was actually going to go over 10,000 words. I don't want to do that in this story, so I cut it off here. Long chapters kill my momentum, so chances are that by splitting it, you'll actually get the next part sooner.  
_

 _Look at the glorious new cover art! Finally, it's here. I had a lot of fun putting that together._

 _Alright, I've got a question for all of you. Today, I finalized the basic layout of this story; and I realized that as I have it planned, it's going to be extremely long - significantly longer than The Oasis, even. The entire story (the way it's set up now) will have ten arcs total; and if each arc has about 30,000-40,000 words in it, well...you get the picture. Since it's going to be so ridiculously long, do you think it would be better to divide the entire story canon up into three segments posted as different stories, or would it be best to keep it as one monolithic behemoth? Keep in mind that no records will be broken for story length if I do that. There's already one that's exceeded War and Peace in terms of word count - and it's not even complete._


	12. Heart of Darkness, Act 2

**Arc II: Darker Matters**

 _Part 8: Heart of Darkness, Act 2_

The doors to the freight elevator opened, revealing Xavier, 'Skidd,' and Wolf's husky bodyguards named Liam and Marcel. The instant the doors spread apart, Liam and Marcel pushed their box-laden yellow hand trucks into the hallway outside. Both of them felt uncomfortable not knowing what the two Pineapple Computers boxes contained, but Xavier continued to reassure them that they would find out soon enough. Turning left out of the elevator and walking until they reached a dead end, Liam opened a door to the right and motioned for everyone else to follow him. While his counterpart pushed his hand truck into the room, Xavier and Skidd trailed them.

The room featured a security console that looked out over a large common area inside the base's main building through a thick sheet of glass. Several soldiers milled about the area, but security appeared to be anything but tight. Clusters of computerized equipment whirred in the back of the room, unoccupied by anyone other than Skidd, Xavier, and Wolf's guards. Setting his box down near the front of the room close to the main security console, Liam looked at Xavier and pointed to a black office chair in front of him. "Sit down and get to work. The boss wants all the security codes in this base changed. He fired our previous technical specialist last week, and he's concerned that he'll find a way to exploit his knowledge unless we take action now."

From behind Xavier, 'Skidd' smirked. _"Oh, if only they knew."_

Xavier turned his head towards Liam and replied, "Alright. Give us an hour or so, and we'll have it done. You can leave now if you'd like."

Liam narrowed his eyes, while his counterpart clapped Xavier on the shoulder and hinted, "The boss doesn't think it's such a good idea to leave you on your own for this. We'll be keeping an eye on you until you're done."

" _Shit,"_ Xavier thought. _"How are we going to get Hartmann and Fox out of the boxes without blowing everything?"_

With defeat in his eyes, Xavier sighed and nodded at Liam. He moved towards the office chair and dropped into it, motioning for 'Skidd' to roll his wheelchair up to the long control panel in front of the large observation window. His eyes noticed a beige sticky note attached to the console next to the keyboard. The note contained a list of alphanumeric codes that corresponded to the base's preexisting password suite. While he took note of the passcodes, Liam and Marcel walked to the back of the room and turned to face the console. Both huskies held their assault rifles over their chests as if waiting for Xavier and 'Skidd' to try something.

Booting up the computer in front of him, Xavier glanced at 'Skidd' out of the corner of his eye and whispered, "What are we supposed to do now?"

"Skidd's" mouth contorted into a devilish, toothless grin. "Don't you worry – I've got this all figured out. Witness the power of my B3 attack! It's only possible thanks to you letting me stop at Taco Ringer on the way to the office store so I could get my hands on my beloved Mas Grande Beanstravaganza Burrito."

"B3 attack? What's that supposed to be?"

"Watch and learn, little buddy," 'Skidd' chortled. The blue frog leaned back in his wheelchair and clenched his gums. Balling up his fists, he pumped his arms back and unleashed a tuba-esque blast that lasted upwards of five seconds before it tapered off with a sickening 'squelch.'

"Wow. You seriously just did that," Xavier moaned.

"Give it a minute," 'Skidd' replied, raising his finger. As the seconds ticked past, a horrid, foul stench filled the air, inundating the room with a malodorous scent that could have given Corneria City's sewer system a run for its money.

Xavier's eyes flared open. Clamping a hand over his mouth, he groaned in muffled agony and leaped out of his chair. The feline sprinted for the door, but Liam and Marcel stopped him. While Marcel pointed his assault rifle at Xavier, Liam demanded, "What do you think you're…?"

The smell reached the back of the room.

"Whoa! Biohazard! Evacuate the room!" the husky shouted, turning his back on 'Skidd' and forcing the door behind him open. Marcel followed suit, as did Xavier.

With the room cleared, 'Skidd' raised his hands in triumph and proudly announced, "Behold – the Brassy Bassoon from the Buttocks! Now _that's_ a brown note!" Then, he turned towards the two Pineapple boxes nearby. "Come on out, boys – the room's clear."

The two boxes vibrated feverishly, and although both Fox and Hartmann put their all into breaking out of their cardboard prisons, neither of them seemed to be able to. Then, Hartmann exploded out of his box and stood up. He glanced at Fox's box, and after realizing that he was stuck inside, he tore the tape at the top of the box with his index claw and opened it for him.

"Thanks," Fox gasped, emerging from the box with Scarlet's gray catsuit held in his hand. He looked around the room and tried to understand how the room had been cleared out so effectively, but then the traces of Skidd's B3 attack made their way to his nose. "Holy crap – what is _that?_ "

"I think you just answered your own question," Hartmann replied, moving towards the room's door and taking a position to the left of it. "The guards won't stay outside forever, though. Stand across from me; and when they come back in, take them out. Hey Skidd, what happened to Xavier?"

"Sorry boss, but he didn't survive the B3 attack," 'Skidd' replied.

Hartmann rolled his eyes. "Great. That means he's outside with the two guards. Well, if he gets in the way, he's going to get pounded."

Fox put his ear to the wall and listened for any sounds coming from the hallway outside. After a moment, he heard the tapping of claws on the door handle and prepared himself to strike. Then, the door swung open. Having figured that Fox and Hartmann would have broken out of their boxes while he and Wolf's guards were out of the room, Xavier darted through the doorway ahead of Marcel and Liam, who insisted on having him enter the room first.

As the two huskies stepped through the door frame, their eyes alighted on the two opened Pineapple boxes near the front console. Both of them stopped in their tracks, giving Fox and Hartmann the perfect opportunity to strike. Matching Hartmann's movements, Fox lunged forward and grabbed Liam by the neck, then slammed his head into Marcel's. Both soldiers reeled in confusion and pain, unable to process the turn of events that ensued after they spotted the opened boxes. In seconds, both huskies' worlds grew black as Fox and Hartmann stepped behind them and cut off their breathing.

When Liam stopped moving, Fox released his grip and let the husky's body fall to the ground. Hartmann followed suit, then dragged Marcel towards the opened computer boxes. Propping him up against the side of Fox's box, he looked towards Xavier and asked, "Is there anything in here that we can use to tie these guys up?"

"I saw some CATV cables in a box near the back of the room. Those might work if you use enough of them," Xavier replied.

Hartmann looked to his left and noticed the aforementioned box. "Good. You're responsible for restraining them. I don't care how you do it. Just make sure they can't speak up or move anywhere."

"You got it, boss. What do you want us to do when you break Scarlet out?"

Onyx's leader stroked his muzzle, then looked at Fox before replying, "I'll call you when we're ready. Find a way to access the main gate controls and open it up, but don't do it until I tell you to. When I give the order, lock the gate in the open position and head back to the van. Then, we'll all pile in and get out of here. Anthracite will probably give chase, but once we leave their private area and get back on national roads, they'll have no choice but to let us go."

"Sounds risky, but it's a plan nonetheless," Xavier commented.

Taking a glance at Marcel and Liam propped up against the back wall, Hartmann told Fox, "Let's take their uniforms. If we look like we belong here, we'll be able to get to Scarlet's cell in no time. Hopefully Miyu has taken over guarding the brig by now."

Fox reached down and started unzipping Marcel's black fatigues. "Speaking of Miyu, do you really think it was a good idea to trust her with this? She said she wants revenge on Anthracite, but it would be really easy for her to turn on us now that she's back in her home base."

While ridding Liam of his uniform, Hartmann glanced at Fox and answered, "I don't fully trust her either, but then again, I don't trust your blue friend."

"You'd say that after all I've done to help you?" 'Skidd' huffed. "You know, I think I've got another B3 attack coming on thanks to that comment."

"No! Don't do it! I'm sorry!" Hartmann emphasized, holding up his hands as if 'Skidd's' flatulence was a bona fide weapon.

While Hartmann tried to dissuade 'Skidd' from unleashing another Brassy Bassoon from the Buttocks, Fox pulled off Marcel's fatigues and set to work pulling them on over his preexisting clothes. Wearing two layers of clothing made the warm building interior feel intolerably hot, but he wanted to be able to keep his personal clothes for later. Taking a quick look at the husky – left wearing only his white briefs and tank top – he noticed a black backpack leaning against the back wall. He moved to pick it up, and to his delight, he found it to be empty. Unzipping the main compartment, he tossed Scarlet's catsuit inside and slung the bag over his shoulders.

Around the same time, Hartmann finished dressing himself in Liam's gear after having convinced 'Skidd' to refrain from creating another biohazard. Giving Fox a nod, he picked up Liam's assault rifle and led Fox out of the room, allowing him to claim Marcel's weapons on the way out. The husky closed the door behind him and stepped into the hallway outside, then told Fox, "Just try to look like you belong here. If you look like you're going somewhere or have something important to do, no one will question it."

"Got it," Fox replied. "Now, where's the brig?"

"Your friend told me it was on the bottom level near the center of this building. Makes sense – that's the most secure location, and also one of the hardest to escape from. However, if Miyu got her extra uniform to Scarlet, that shouldn't be a problem.

Following Hartmann down the nearby set of stairs to the base level, Fox asked the Onyx leader, "So, how much do you really know about Scarlet? Do you know her at all apart from your one night stand with her a year ago?"

"It's funny that you ask that, Fox. You see, we've talked a few times since then, but I can tell that she's not interested in starting anything serious with me."

Fox frowned. "That's odd. Scarlet's been throwing herself at me ever since my dad assigned her on my mission to Aquas."

Hartmann stopped near the bottom of the stairs and looked over his shoulder at Fox with wide eyes. "Really? Hot damn, Foxie – she really wants you, then. You'd better not be passing up on that."

"It's too early to be going after her, though," Fox complained. "I just lost my future wife, and now I'm supposed to just get over it and love on Scarlet like Fara never existed?"

Hartmann reached the bottom of the stairs, then scanned the area with his keen eyes and headed to the left down a long corridor that ended in another descending staircase. "No – you love on Scarlet first, and then she'll help you get over it. If she's been making advances on you, I'm sure she'd be more than happy to help."

Fox made no response, but in his mind, the wheels of thought started turning. _"Am I dumb for turning Scarlet away? Maybe Hartmann is right – maybe she could do something to help me get over Fara's death. It's not like I'd be offending Fara. She's dead, anyway."_

Hartmann's voice interrupted his thoughts. "I think the brig is down this staircase."

As he and Fox neared the stairs at the end of the hall, Fox glanced to the left in time to see a large, black panther hobbling down an adjacent hall, clutching his manhood and whimpering as he shuffled towards a nearby locker room. _"What happened to him?"_ he wondered.

Hartmann slowed his pace as he reached the stairs and descended into the brig. Turning the corner, he laid eyes on the first cell. To his relief, Miyu stood in front of it, acting as if she had been posted as the prison guard. However, a split second later, his eyes darted towards the first cell's occupant. As he drank in the picture perfect image of the most attractive vixen he had ever encountered, he felt his mouth going dry.

His heart did a flip when Scarlet stared at him with joyful eyes and blurted out, "Bruno?"

Suddenly, the embarrassment of his first name erased the ecstasy he felt. His mind returned to earth, just as Fox turned to him and asked, "Bruno?"

"It's my first name," Hartmann admitted. "Please, don't ever use it. That goes for you too, Scarlet."

The vixen returned a confused expression. "You let me say it several times when we made love a year ago."

"That…that was different," the husky stuttered. "But make no mistake – I hate that name! Don't bring it up again!"

"Well, if you say so," Scarlet laughed, climbing off of her prison cot and grabbing the bars on her cell door. "I'm so flattered that you came to rescue me. You too, Fox." She stepped back and blew him a kiss, prompting a tinge of red to color the tips of his ears.

Fox blushed and stepped towards Scarlet's cell, then pulled off his backpack and unzipped it.

"Do you have something for me?" Scarlet asked, peering into the bag. To her delight, Fox pulled out her gray catsuit and handed it to her through the cell bars. The vixen snatched it out of his hands and smiled with glee for a moment, then stared at him with an expression that suggested that he had forgotten something. "Fox, where's my underwear?"

Fox cringed and avoided looking into Scarlet's eyes. "I didn't think you'd need it, honestly."

"Really? I never leave home without it," Scarlet insisted.

"Well, you can hardly blame me for thinking that you wouldn't care. After all, some of the stuff I saw in your suitcase while trying to find you a catsuit looked more like dental floss than clothing."

A devious smile appeared on Scarlet's face. "That's for special occasions," she purred.

Fox shook his head, then told Scarlet, "You can go through your suitcase all you want after we get out of here, but for now, go ahead and get changed. I see that Miyu already gave you an extra set of Anthracite fatigues to wear. Try putting them on over your catsuit." Although he figured that Scarlet would have no qualms with undressing in front of him, he turned his back on her cell to give her some privacy. It seemed that Hartmann did not share his ideals. With a smirk, he watched as Scarlet slipped out of her prison clothing and commented, "Sorry, Scarlet – I can't help it."

"Oh, I'm sure," Scarlet mocked. "How would you feel if I was the one watching _you_ get changed?"

Hartmann crossed his arms and grinned. "I'd feel just fine."

Under her breath, Scarlet whispered, "You handsome bastard," and stepped into her catsuit, pulling the stretchy garment up to cover her chest and arms before she reached for the zipper on the front and sealed herself into one of her favorite articles of clothing. After snatching Miyu's extra fatigues off of her bed, she looked down at her chest and gave Hartmann a crooked smile. At the same time, Fox turned around and realized why Scarlet wished that he had brought a pair of underwear for her.

"Well, that's one way to tell that it's too cold in here," Hartmann joked.

"Shut up, Bruno," Scarlet smirked. "Can you get me out of here now?"

"Miyu – keys," Fox ordered.

The lynx dug into her pants pocket and produced the rusted key to Scarlet's cell. A quick turn later, the door swung open, and Scarlet stepped out, carrying Miyu's extra fatigues. Giving her limbs a stretch, she pulled on the black jacket and frowned when it refused to zip up. To Fox and Hartmann's dismay, Miyu had been right about her clothing being too small for Scarlet. The vixen managed to pull the zipper up to her chest, but when she tried to force it past her voluptuous breasts, the zipper snapped off in her hand and left the jacket half open. "Crap!" Scarlet griped.

At that moment, a quiet set of footsteps clapped against the stairs outside the brig. Fox, Hartmann, and Miyu looked to the left in time to notice a raccoon soldier wandering into the area. Upon seeing Scarlet attempting to dress herself in Anthracite gear, his eyes widened.

"Intruders in the brig!" he shouted at the top of his lungs.

Without a moment's hesitation, Fox aimed his assault rifle and fired a barrage of bullets at the raccoon. The unfortunate soldier thrashed as the rounds struck him in the chest, then fell to the ground dead.

"Well, there goes our plan," Fox grimaced. "Now what?"

Hartmann looked down the hallway flanked by empty prison cells and noticed a doorway at the end. "Head down that hallway and hope that it goes somewhere. If it does and we don't run into anyone, Miyu and I will split up and try to head back to the outdoor area. For right now, you just need to try to find a place to hide Scarlet until we can get something figured out."

His nervousness beginning to rise, Fox commented, "That doesn't sound like much of a plan."

"That's because it isn't. The plan is shot to hell. The only things that will get us out of here now are quick thinking and situational awareness."

The sound of rapid footsteps echoed through the stairwell leading into the brig.

"Dammit! Run!" Hartmann ordered.

The four sprinted for the door at the other end of the brig with Fox leading the way. Throwing his weight into the door, he forced it open and immediately turned right to avoid face planting into the wall that stood three feet behind the door. The new corridor that he, Hartmann, Miyu, and Scarlet found themselves in was empty for the moment. Ahead of them, a set of stairs led back up to the common area below the control center where Xavier and 'Skidd' sat; and to the left, a new hallway opened up. As the brig door closed behind the group, Hartmann looked to Miyu and said, "This is where we split up. I don't think anyone is going to know who shot that raccoon, so all of us should be okay – except for Scarlet, of course."

With time being of the essence, he instructed Fox, "Find a place where she can hide, then try to locate a set of clothes that actually fit her. Got it?"

"Yes," Fox affirmed. "Come on, Scarlet – let's move."

While Hartmann and Miyu sprinted up the staircase and disappeared after reaching the top, Fox glanced at Scarlet and allowed a tense frown to work its way onto his lips. "I had a feeling it was all going to go downhill eventually."

In response, the vixen placed a friendly hand on his shoulder and replied, "Don't worry, Foxie – I've managed to get out of tougher situations than this before. Let's take that hallway to the left."

"Got it. Here – take my handgun," said Fox, handing Scarlet the small pistol that he had swiped from Marcel's clothes.

With Fox ahead of her, Scarlet stepped into the hallway to the left. White paint decorated the walls on both sides. A few pictures dotted the walls here and there, but the long hall seemed relatively empty. Several silver doors stood out on both the left and right, with brass plaques decorating each of their monotone surfaces. Considering that no one seemed to be in the area, Fox pulled out his phone and contacted Slippy. Stopping and leaning against the left wall, he waited until the amphibian's voice came through his tiny speakers. To his dismay, Slippy seemed intent on maintaining his 'Skidd Marx' persona, even over the phone.

" _Why hello there, Fox. What can I do for you?"_ he rumbled in his disturbingly sensuous voice.

"Listen, Slippy," Fox replied, "I need you to make sure the camera feeds in this base aren't going to be seen by anyone other than you."

" _I don't know who this 'Slippy' person is. Sounds like a huge nerd that no self-respectin' woman would ever want to cuddle with,"_ 'Skidd' bellowed. _"But anyway, you ain't got nothing to worry about. I'm the only one who can see you through the cameras. Well, you and your lovely vixen. Ow – she is lookin' tasty!"_

"That's quite enough of _that_ ," Fox muttered, closing the call and returning his phone to his pocket.

Having overheard the last part of the conversation, Scarlet leaned closer to Fox and asked, "Was that Slippy?"

Fox rolled his eyes. "Yes, except now he thinks he's a ladies-frog named 'Skidd Marx'."

"I really must have missed a lot while I was locked up in there."

"You don't know the half of it," Fox replied. He looked over his shoulder at the hallway entrance, then continued down the long, white expanse. He kept his finger on his assault rifle's trigger as he passed by each of the doors in the hallway until a passageway to the right revealed itself. Fox and Scarlet stepped to within a hundred feet of the new hallway that began where the current corridor ended in a ninety degree right turn. Then, a door to the left opened, and a brown Labrador walked out, wearing a white lab coat and carrying a clipboard.

The instant he laid eyes on Scarlet, he dropped the clipboard and reached for the silver handgun that he kept in a holster on his waist, but Scarlet beat him to it and drew her own pistol. The canine realized that he stood no chance, but by that point, it was too late for him. Scarlet pulled the trigger, sending a bullet into his chest. The lab clutched at his newly-formed wound as blood poured out of it and soaked his white coat. Losing strength, he fell to the ground and looked up at Fox and Scarlet with a malicious expression that betrayed a disturbing hint of glee. As his life-force faded away, he grinned a maniacal grin and shouted, "Kill them, my darlings!"

Two more doors in the hallway flew open behind Fox and Scarlet in response to the sound of gunfire. Without looking back, Fox grabbed Scarlet's empty hand and pulled her towards the nearby corner. As he raced past the still-opened door where the brown canine had stepped out, he caught a glimpse of the plaque on his door.

"Roberto Lorenzo – Robotics Doctor"

Gulp. Fox swallowed hard and rounded the corner with Scarlet hot on his heels. The right turn led the two vulpines into a narrow silver hallway that sloped upwards. Fox guessed that it led back into the common area – not a good thing, considering that after hearing numerous gunshots, the entire base would be on high alert by now. But instead of considering what he would do after he and Scarlet left the inclined hallway and entered the vast common area, Fox wondered why the hallway sloped upwards when it would have been simpler just to install stairs at the end.

Then it hit him.

" _One of Slippy's inventions that Anthracite uses are his rolling security drones. They look like big peppershakers with tiny little wheels on the bottom. They're equipped with two machine pistols each, and they're heavily armored. But because this was one of Slippy's inventions, he dropped a flaming turd on the project and left the drones with a crippling weakness."_

" _Which is?"_

" _Stairs."_

Instinctively, Fox looked back while running alongside Scarlet. From the opened room around the corner behind them, a duo of grating, robotic voices pierced the air.

"E-LIM-I-NATE! E-LIM-I-NATE!"

Ears on edge and a concerned expression on her muzzle, Scarlet panted, "What's that sound?"

Fox had only one answer. "Slippy's old armored security drones."

"I'm going to kill him when we get out of here," Scarlet snarled, narrowing her eyes.

Not giving the peppershaker attack robots the opportunity to line them up in their sights, Fox and Scarlet sprinted out of the inclined hallway and rushed into the common area. The instant they set foot in the area, three soldiers took aim at them from the center of the floor. Still running, Fox raised his assault rifle and fired in their general direction. One lucky round caught one of the guards in the arm, while a second bullet embedded itself in a second soldier's upper leg. Distracted by the pain, they lost their focus and roared in pain.

Then, Wolf's commanding voice echoed over the base's loudspeakers, reverberating through the large concrete and metal-filled space. _"Attentional all facility staff: this is an emergency. We are under attack. Lieutenant Heckler, Sergeant Koch – please report to the auxiliary warehouse at the end of Common Area B to help me move the nuclear missile cache to transport plane RFX-230 for immediate deployment to East Fortuna."_

Dodging bullets from the third soldier in the common area, Fox led Scarlet to the left, through a large doorway with writing above it that read, 'CA – B.' Over the din inside the building, he shouted to Scarlet, "They're about to deliver _nukes_ to East Fortuna? We've got to intercept them in that warehouse! We can't let those weapons end up with the rebel forces!"

The short hallway spat them out in another large, open common area that resembled a gymnasium or basketball court. The instant they set foot on the glossy, gray floor, two more soldiers leaped out at them and fired from the right side of the room. A line of bullets raced past Scarlet's ear as she lined up her handgun. She pulled the trigger three times, scoring two hits on the trooper. A split second later, the sound of Fox's assault rifle rattled the walls. The second soldier fell to the ground, leaving the room empty for the moment.

Looking ahead to the back of the gray-painted area that lacked windows, Fox noticed a large staircase leading towards a heavy blast door that looked like it would have normally been closed and locked. However, it hung open, and it looked like it had no intentions of shutting. He locked eyes with Scarlet. "Be ready for anything in there."

The vixen nodded.

Suddenly, the sound of the pursuing attack robots returned.

"E-LIM-I-NATE! E-LIM-I-NATE!"

Fox did not need to tell Scarlet to run. The vixen looked behind her time to see two meter-tall peppershaker-like 'things' speeding out of the short hallway behind her, chanting their one-word command like a mantra. The machines struggled to move in a straight line – they zigzagged back and forth, their four tiny base wheels allowing them to move in any direction at will. As Fox and Scarlet neared the stairs at the back of the room, the silver machines stopped and vibrated, jumping two full inches off the ground before they focused in on their two targets with their automated targeting systems.

"TARGET ACQUIRED! E-LIM-I-NATE! E-LIM-I-NATE!"

Fox leaped onto the stairs and looked to his right in time for the two drones to aim their body-mounted machine pistols at him and Scarlet and open fire. However, because they had stopped in the center of the large common room floor over a hundred feet from their targets, their bullets sprayed in every direction except the direction that involved them hitting Fox or Scarlet. Lead riddled the back wall above the staircase. Rounds pinged off the rails and the metal frame holding it up. Fox raced to the top of the stairs with Scarlet on his heels. As he dove for the opened doorway, he heard Scarlet yelp in pain. Pushing himself to his feet and turning his head to meet her eyes, he silently demanded, _"Are you okay?"_

The vixen sprinted through the door and gasped, "A bullet hit my tail. I'll be okay."

With their targets out of their lines of sight, the two drones ceased firing. However, they did not stop chanting their continued command to 'E-LIM-I-NATE.' Knowing that the peppershakers lacked the ability to deal with stairs, Fox wiped his brow and panted, "That was too close."

He looked at his new surroundings and realized that he and Scarlet were standing on a mesh-patterned metal balcony in the back of a large storage warehouse. Boxes and crates sat on the floor and in stacks that reached to the ceiling. The only light inside the expansive room came from two overhead ballast cans, one of which flickered every few seconds. Fox remembered that Xavier had shown him a black and white photograph of this very room back at the Onyx safe house in Golstave.

All of a sudden, the door behind him slid shut with a hollow 'ka-chunk.' The green light that showed the status of the lock turned solid red, sending the message that he and Scarlet had been locked inside.

"Fox! Get down!" Scarlet shrieked.

Not one moment later, the sound of gunfire erupted in the warehouse. Leaping for a large support column that held up the balcony under his feet, Fox felt the air from the bullets buffeting his fur. After the gun stopped firing, a harsh, gravely voice echoed through the room.

"I've been waiting a long time for this, pup. Get ready to die."

Poking his head out from behind the column that acted as his cover, Fox looked down at the floor below and saw Wolf, armed with a heavy assault rifle and covered head to toe in advanced combat armor. Then, he looked towards the center of the warehouse floor, where a massive, twelve foot tall bipedal loader stood. In a matter of seconds, Wolf vaulted up the side of the machine and leaped into the driver's seat, positioned behind a metal plate with two Plexiglas viewports. Fox watched in horror as the walker creaked into life, then stomped over to a large wooden crate on the left wall. With its metallic fists, it smashed its way into the box, then stepped back.

Holding a Gatling gun in each hand.

* * *

 _AUTHOR'S NOTE(S):_

 _I think you all know what comes next - BOSS BATTLE! Complete with boss battle music and everything. Unfortunately, it might get delayed a little because I've got a few too many holiday commitments to deal with in the coming weeks, and also because of another thing that I will not disclose right now for...reasons. (laughs evilly)  
_


	13. Boss Battle 1

**Arc II: Darker Matters**

BOSS BATTLE 1

Music: V12 (Instrumental Mix) – Tempo Giusto

* * *

" _This is really, really bad,"_ Fox thought, looking towards the other side of the elevated balcony to the support column that Scarlet had taken cover behind. Behind his back and the pillar that shielded him from his arch-rival Wolf, the lupine stomped the warehouse ground in his massive, minigun-equipped loader. Fox dared not peek out from behind his cover for fear of giving away his position, but he had a feeling Wolf already knew where he was.

"Say goodbye, Fox!" Wolf shouted from behind the loader's protected driver's seat. Not a moment later, both of the loader's Gatling guns erupted, spewing hundreds of rounds in Fox and Scarlet's general direction. The hail of 50-caliber bullets ripped through the support columns holding the balcony up. With a groan of metal, the causeway collapsed under Fox and Scarlet's feet. Losing his footing, Fox fell flat on his face on the warping balcony as it crumbled to the warehouse floor. Nearby, Scarlet screamed and tried to find a purchase on something. All the while, the loader's twin guns continued to pelt the area.

With a shock that knocked the air out of his lungs, Fox hit the ground amidst a cloud of dust created by the falling structure. Rolling onto his back, he looked to his right and saw Wolf's loader approaching the rubble. He knew he only had a tiny window of opportunity to slip out of Wolf's sights. Along the wall in front of him, he noticed a large chunk of eviscerated metal that had fallen into a relatively solid shape; and behind it, he saw an opening between it and the wall bordering Common Area 2.

As much as he feared for Scarlet's safety, he knew that he had to focus on himself if either of them wanted to have any chance of escaping. While Wolf's loader began sifting through the rubble of the ruined balcony, Fox lunged towards the wall and pushed through the tiny opening at the edge of the debris. Wolf noticed the movement through the scraps of metal and turned the loader to his right, but he could not rotate quickly enough to put Fox in his sights. Breaking out into the middle of the cluttered warehouse floor, Fox dove behind a brick-shaped cache of wooden crates, ten feet high and equally wide. All of the boxes sported black paint markings that read 'CAUTION: EXPLOSIVE.'

" _Oh no – he's going to shoot the boxes. No, wait – if he does that, it could bring down the whole warehouse. I know Wolf wants me dead, but he's not_ that _crazy."_

The pause in action confirmed his suspicion. On the warehouse floor in front of the crates, Wolf paced back and forth, looking for an angle at which to attack Fox. Five seconds passed. Fox felt the hands of panic attacking his body. He knew Wolf was thinking up some kind of plan to eliminate his cover; and when he did, he would have to find new shelter almost immediately or risk being ripped apart by the loader's twin miniguns.

As if on cue, his phone chirped. Luckily for him, it was not loud enough to alert Wolf. Digging into his pocket, he raised it to his ear, fully prepared to drop it and run if Wolf attacked his position. "This had better be important," he whispered.

To his dismay, the voice of 'Skidd Marx' assaulted his ears yet again. "Fox, there's something I've got to warn you about! Don't go into that warehouse! You see, when Wolf says over the intercom that there's an emergency with intruders in the base, it's always a plot to trick the intruders into going where he wants them to. Wolf's trying to lay a trap for you, Fox!"

"A little too late, pal," Fox snarled. "I'm fighting your stupid warehouse loader right now. Got any ideas on how to take it down?"

"Oh crap, Fox – you're screwed!" 'Skidd' rumbled. "Your only chance is to shoot Wolf from behind, but I don't know how you're going to get behind him in that warehouse!"

Without a second thought, Fox shoved his phone back in his pocket. The last thing he needed was another voice telling him that there was no way to escape the warehouse alive.

Then, the walker's footsteps pummeled the ground behind him, growing louder as it moved towards the stack of boxes acting as his only cover. The thundering footsteps reached a punishing level in his ears, then a new noise filled the warehouse. Fox gasped as the walker threw its weight into the connected cube of wooden crates and started pushing it. He lost his footing and fell to the ground, only to be carried along by the boxes grinding towards an empty alcove in the warehouse's side wall.

" _No! He's going to try to crush me against the wall!"_

The gray cinder block wall grew closer, moving to within fifteen feet of his certain demise. He couldn't let it all end like this. He had experienced years of success with his mercenary work, and the thought of it all ending with a bone-crunching 'splat' against a wall felt like the worst possible way to go out. While being shoved along the floor, Fox reached for anything that his hand could grab. His gloves caught the top edge of the crate that slid along the ground. Even though another large wooden crate sat atop it, it was not perfectly stacked. This created six inches of a fingerhold for Fox to take hold of.

Gripping the edge of the lower crate like a lifeline, Fox swung his other arm around his body, twisting his back in the process. His ligaments protested with pain, but he had no time to listen to them. With both hands gripping the tiny wooden ledge, he pulled himself up and stood on it with his feet turned sideways.

The wall loomed closer. Five feet away.

With all the strength he could bring to bear, he jumped, raising his hands in hopes of reaching the top of the box stacked on top of the one scraping along the floor. His hands caught the edge. The wall drew even closer. In under a second, there would be no chance of escape. Over the sound of the boxes scraping and the walker stomping towards the wall, Wolf's laughter echoed through the warehouse. Fox's muscles cried out for relief as he yanked himself upwards, pushing his arms to their limits.

He swung himself onto the top of the upper crate and braced himself as the explosive crates slammed into the back wall. He struggled to maintain his footing, but he had no time to think about such a minor detail compared to what stood in front of him. With its mechanical arms still extended to push the boxes, the walker stood face to face with Fox. For the briefest of seconds, he stared straight at the walker's faceplate. Through one of the Plexiglas viewports, he caught a glimpse of Wolf's incensed expression.

He knew he only had a split second to react. Collecting himself, he leaped off the top box and reached for the top of the loader's faceplate. His hands caught on the thick sheet of armor, but before he had the chance to pull himself up, Wolf unbuckled his seat belt and reached for his handgun. The instant Fox noticed Wolf's ears poking out from behind the plate, he let go and fell to the ground.

The impact from the twelve foot drop to the floor screamed through his legs and feet; and he knew that if he survived the fight with Wolf, he would be in pain for several days. At the moment, however, his adrenaline kept him focused on what mattered – his survival. While Wolf struggled to buckle himself back into his seat, Fox sprinted between the walker's legs and turned around with his assault rifle pointed towards the exposed back part of Wolf's seat. The instant the lupine sat down and clipped on his seat belt, Fox unloaded a three-round burst. The bullets sliced through the back of Wolf's seat and into his back.

Fox did an internal fist pump, but in little time, he realized that his attack had done almost nothing to stop his arch-rival from driving the machine. Almost as if the bullets had never been fired, Wolf turned the walker around and took aim at Fox.

" _Damn! That armor he's wearing is thick!"_

Kicking up his heels, he sprinted towards the back of the warehouse, arranged in three aisles similar to the ones one would find in a wholesale supermarket. The aisles ran perpendicular to the rectangular shape of the warehouse, which Fox hoped would prevent Wolf from taking aim at him once he entered one of them. As he rounded the corner into the first of the three horizontal aisles, Wolf opened fire on his position. The bullets ripped a chunk out of the concrete floor, but missed him by mere inches. Adrenaline kicking with full force, Fox raced towards a tall stack of boxes organized at the bottom of one of the ceiling-high shelves. On the front, the words 'DO NOT EXPOSE TO HEAT' stood out to his eyes.

Hearing Wolf's walker stomping towards the aisle entry, Fox tore out his knife and sliced a hole into the side of the wooden crate. Thrusting his hand into the newly created gap, he yanked the front of the box off to reveal the ultimate early Christmas present.

An assortment of RPG cannons and their accompanying warheads. Without hesitation, he pulled out one of the launchers and fumbled around inside the box until his hand came into contact with one of the explosive warheads. All the while, Wolf's walker stomped closer to the aisle entry until its legs jutted out from behind the corner. Panicking, Fox jammed the shell into the launcher and hefted it onto his shoulder just as the walker stepped into the gap between the two aisle shelves, around fifty meters from where he stood.

Fox's finger pulled back on the trigger, sending the warhead racing towards the machine with a fiery burst. The explosive shell streaked down the aisle and hit Wolf's walker in the left leg, exploding in a fiery cascade that sent shrapnel flying in all directions. The towering machine stumbled, with sparks flying from its damaged leg. The instant that he fired the first shell, Fox pulled out a second warhead from the box and began loading it. Realizing that his opponent had managed to exploit a weak point of his, Wolf backed out of the aisle and stomped towards the center of the warehouse.

As the walker's footsteps reached the middle of the floor, Fox realized what he intended to do.

" _He's…He's going to blow up the whole back end of the warehouse."_

Trapped between the two aisles that reached to the roof, Fox had no way of seeing Wolf's machine. Still holding onto his RPG cannon, he sprinted for the end of the aisle and poked his head out in time to see Wolf back his loader into position to fire on his previous position. Despite being a hundred and fifty feet away from the RPG cache, he knew that if Wolf fired on the warehouse shelves, the resulting explosion would kill him in seconds and possibly bring down the entire warehouse in the process.

While Fox debated whether to run for cover and expose his exact position or risk being obliterated by Wolf detonating the back half of the warehouse, Scarlet managed to extricate herself from the rubble of the collapsed balcony. Crawling through the twisted metal, she pushed herself into the open floor, fifty feet behind Wolf's walker as he took aim at the warehouse shelves. Knowing exactly what he intended to do, she jumped to her feet and launched into a frantic sprint, pulling out her handgun. When she neared the walker, she took aim at Wolf and fired four times. None of the shots hit home. However, the noise distracted Wolf; and he looked over his shoulder in time to see Scarlet leap for the short ladder attached to the back of the walker's left leg.

With the mere pull of a lever, he pumped his walker's left arm backwards with its elbow extended. The blow struck Scarlet in the stomach. The vixen screamed in pain and released her grip on the machine, landing back-first on the hard concrete floor. Her handgun clattered nearby, but the sheer pain of Wolf's attack left her unable to do anything other than roll over and empty the contents of her stomach on the floor.

Wolf capitalized on her moment of weakness. As she tried to crawl her way to her gun, Wolf turned his walker around and aimed at her. She could feel his fingers gripping the trigger to his dual Gatling guns, willing to end her life in the blink of an eye. Then, out of the corner of her vision, a yellow flash erupted from the back of the warehouse. An RPG screamed through the air, aimed directly at the metal plate in front of Wolf's seat. The missile narrowly missed its target and instead whizzed over the walker, only to explode against the wall near the door where Fox and Scarlet had entered the room.

In the fraction of a moment that left Wolf distracted, Scarlet grabbed her handgun and lunged to her feet. Ignoring the extreme pain in her stomach and the vomit on her lips, she sprinted between the walker's legs and once again jumped for the ladder on the left leg. Her hands caught the yellow support. Expecting Wolf to punch her again, she gritted her teeth and pulled herself up the ladder using every ounce of strength left in her injured body. Wolf swung his walker's arm at her again, but this time, he hit only air. Only then did Wolf realize that he had a new problem to deal with. He unbuckled his seatbelt and reached for his handgun.

Reaching the top of the ladder, Scarlet stepped onto the small flat area on top of the loader, where Wolf sat in the central driver's chair. While the lupine brandished his handgun, Scarlet clenched her fist and pummeled him in the muzzle. Wolf reeled in pain, dropping his weapon on the floorboard by his feet. With his seatbelt hanging limp against the side of the driver's seat, Scarlet used the energy from her punch to swing her arm the opposite direction with her hand angled sideways. Her martial arts chop struck Wolf in the neck, forcing him to let out a piercing scream of agony. Looking over the front of the walker's front armor plate, she noticed Fox running towards her with his assault rifle in hand.

Baring her teeth like a wild animal, Scarlet wrapped her arms around Wolf's torso and rotated his driver's seat until it faced sideways. Then, she coerced her remaining strength into her arm muscles and heaved Wolf off the chair. With a howl, he plummeted from the top of the loader and landed on his side with an agonizing 'crunch' that echoed through the warehouse.

Fox ran towards his rival and pointed his rifle at him, expecting the large lupine to crawl to his feet. To his surprise, however, Wolf groaned and gritted his teeth in pain. He seemed unable to move in any capacity apart from writhing on the ground. Even his heavy armor failed to prevent him from being hurt after being thrown from the top of the walker.

Even though he and Scarlet seemed safe enough, Fox looked around the warehouse for any new activity, all the while keeping his stolen assault rifle pointed at Wolf's head. When he ascertained that no one else had entered the building, he glared at Wolf and barked, "Where are the nukes? Tell me now!"

Wolf returned a baleful look full of abject hatred for his vulpine rival. "There are no nukes, pup. It's hard to turn a profit by blowing up the world."

"Then where are the chemical weapons? Which planes are they in?"

Wolf snarled, opening his mouth to reveal his prodigious set of teeth. Then, his mouth contorted into a sadistic smile. "That doesn't matter anymore."

"What do you mean?!" Fox demanded.

"You'll find out soon enough," Wolf replied, maintaining his smile.

Standing across from Fox with Wolf's body between her and him, Scarlet drew her handgun and cocked it. Then, she aimed it at Wolf's head and placed her finger on the trigger.

Almost immediately, Fox violently waved his hand at her and ordered, "No – don't kill him."

Scarlet looked at him as if he had gone mad. "What? Are you serious, Fox? If we don't kill him now, he's going to come back later! It's how these things work. Haven't you ever seen any movies? Don't be the stupid nice guy who spares enemies who won't ever have a change of heart. Sometimes, doing the right thing requires you to be a bit evil."

Almost as if to drive Scarlet's point home, Wolf looked at Fox and narrowed his eyes. Spewing hatred from his lips, he spat, "Yeah! Shoot me while I'm down like a _real_ coward! Do it! Show me how pathetic you really are!"

Fox shook his head. "No. I won't do it. Put the gun away, Scarlet."

The vixen balked, knowing that Fox was making a colossal error in judgment. Yet, for some reason, she did not want to let him down. Most of the time, she would have been more than happy to ignore his order and bury a bullet in Wolf's skull, but this time, she relented and clipped her handgun back onto her catsuit's utility ring. "You're going to regret this, Fox."

Ignoring Scarlet, Fox stepped away from Wolf and looked around the warehouse for an exit door. Now that their initial entry point had been rendered unusable due to the destruction of the balcony at the front of the warehouse, Fox knew that they needed to find another way out. As he searched for a panel or door in the wall, an explosion ripped through the wall between two ceiling-high shelves mounted along the side wall. Amidst the debris and noise, a wheelchair zoomed into the warehouse. The dust cleared in moments, revealing 'Skidd Marx.'

With a frantic look of determination on his face, he waved his hands towards the newly created hole in the wall and shouted, "Come on, guys! We gotta scram!"

* * *

 _AUTHOR'S NOTE(S):_  


 _Alright, I'll admit that the boss battle music that I chose is pretty obscure and difficult to find. It's part of Ben Gold's #Goldrush Vol. 1 trance collection, which can be found on iTunes or Spotify. As far as Youtube...well, good luck. It's the kind of music that I sometimes use to help write my stories.  
_

 _If the number attached to the Boss Battle title is any indication, yes - there will be more of them in the future._

 _If you want more Sierra Foxtrot in a different context, check out my holiday-themed_ "The Sierra Foxtrot War on Christmas." _It's a collaborative effort with Elarix, and it's pretty hilarious, if I do say so myself._


	14. A Black Exit

**Arc II: Darker Matters**

 _Part 9: A Black Exit_

With "Skidd's" wheelchair in the lead, Fox and Scarlet sprinted through the newly-created hole in the warehouse wall. Throughout Wolf's entire complex, alarm sirens blared, searing their ears. Yet, at the same time, a palpable feeling of complete chaos hung over the base. With their leader out of commission and unable to make executive decisions, the base's personnel felt unsure of what to do next. As Fox and Scarlet re-entered Common Area 2, they noticed the charred, eviscerated remains of the peppershaker assault drones on the floor. Neither of the vulpines had any doubt that "Skidd's" missile launcher had been instrumental in their demise.

The blue frog led his two companions through a short hallway into the common area below the main control center, then looked over his shoulder and shouted, "Hartmann finished putting trackers on all the planes, and Miyu's secured the van, but we've got to hurry!"

Another short hallway appeared up ahead, leading towards the front exit doors. As 'Skidd', Fox, and Scarlet neared it, three soldiers burst through the door at the end of the hallway and blocked it. All three of them took aim at the interlopers, but before they could fire, 'Skidd' pressed a button on his wheelchair's right arm. A single missile erupted from the back of his wheelchair and flashed down the hallway, where it hit one of the three soldiers and detonated with a fiery roar. To his dismay, however, 'D-wheelchair' commented, _"Missile Empty. Reload me, punk."_

"Shish-kabobs! I'm out of ammo!" 'Skidd' announced, still rolling across the common area floor ahead of Fox and Scarlet. Right on cue, a small side panel above the wheelchair's right wheel opened up, revealing a small mechanical arm holding a machine pistol. While 'Skidd' grabbed the weapon, Fox asked, "What happened to Xavier? Is he okay?"

At that moment, Xavier barreled down the stairs from the control center, nearly slamming into "Skidd's" wheelchair. The feline's fur bore numerous burn marks, and several blood splatter stains covered his white lab coat.

"I guess that answered that question."

Rolling over the dead soliders who had failed to block the exit, Skidd smashed through the twin opaque doors leading outside. The instant his chair left the building, a chilling sound filled the air. Along with him, Fox, Scarlet, and Xavier all recognized the source of the noise – an attack helicopter.

A small, aluminum-roofed awning covered the area immediately outside the base's front doors, preventing the helicopter from spotting them; but 'Skidd' and the others knew that death was a certainty if they took any course of action that did not involve retreating into the building behind them. In the foreground, the large concrete pad that made up most of the base's outdoor area sprawled in front of them. Few soldiers occupied the area, but the attack chopper could have passed as an entire squad due to Fox and company's lack of anti-air weapons.

Adding insult to injury, when Fox looked to his left, he spotted Hartmann's black van, still parked under the balcony along the front side of the base's main building. Miyu fidgeted in the front seat and stared at him with panic in her eyes. At the extreme front end of the outdoor pad, the base's front gate hung open as a result of "Skidd" and Xavier's meddling. Three soldiers stood guard by the opening; and even though Fox figured that they would be easy enough to deal with, he knew that the instant Onyx's van started moving, the attack chopper would reduce it to a smoldering fireball filled with dead furries.

Cursing his fate, Fox locked eyes with his counterparts and barked, "Get back inside. We'll have to find something to take down that chopper. Dammit – I knew I shouldn't have left that RPG in the warehouse!" Fearing that the soldiers guarding the opened gate two hundred feet away would spot him, Fox turned around and reached for the right of the double doors leading back into the main base building. But then, as his hand touched the metal handle, Scarlet punched him in the shoulder and yelled, "Whoa! Look!"

From outside the base's walls, a single missile streaked through the skies. Fox could only guess where it had been launched from, but it looked to be on a collision course with the attack chopper hovering over the base. A single second later, the warhead exploded into the side of the helicopter. The chopper erupted into flames and wobbled in midair, losing altitude at a lethal rate. While Fox and 'Skidd' stared at the crashing helicopter, Scarlet shouted, "Head for the van, now!"

Scarlet's voice snapped Fox out of his momentary lull in concentration. Following the vixen, he sprinted towards the parked van as the helicopter crashed to the ground and rolled onto its side. The spinning top rotor dug into the pavement, slicing through a cache of explosives positioned on the ground nearby. The resulting explosion filled the mid-morning sky and illuminated it even more than the sun did.

Ahead of the others, Scarlet dove for the van's side door and wrenched it open. Xavier darted for the back of the vehicle and pried open the twin rear doors to reveal Hartmann already seated inside. While Xavier leaped into the back, Fox followed him and closed the doors behind him. Only 'Skidd' remained. For a moment, Fox wondered how exactly he planned on entering the van in his wheelchair.

With the van's side door still opened, 'Skidd' leaped out of his chair, shouted, "Glory hallelujah! I've been healed!" then pulled the passenger side front door open and flopped into the shotgun seat next to Miyu. To Scarlet's shock, "Skidd's" wheelchair raced towards the opened side door and bounded into the open space on the cargo floor next to her. Then, using its empty missile arm, it grabbed the door and slid it shut.

While everyone in the van other than 'Skidd' stared at the wheelchair as if it had been an extra-terrestrial life form (or maybe it was), Miyu fired up the van's engine and floored the gas pedal. The tires screeched against the concrete; and the momentum threw Fox and Xavier against the back of the vehicle. From the rear cargo area, Hartmann shouted, "Miyu! Don't leave the base too quickly!"

"What do you mean by that?" the lynx snapped, looking over her head at Hartmann.

The instant she turned her head back to the concrete pad ahead of her, another missile streaked through the opened base gates and slammed into the pavement, detonating in the midst of the numerous soldiers and sending their bodies flying in all directions. Miyu's jaw dropped, but only for a moment. Without the soldiers guarding the gate, a wide opening presented itself. Once again, she pressed the throttle to the floor and raced out of the base, being mindful to avoid driving into the gaping pothole created by the missile. As she passed the two empty guard stations outside the base walls, she laid eyes on another black van turning around on the grass by the side of the road.

She took a quick look behind her and noticed Hartmann speaking into his personal phone. _"Great work, Vincent, but stay sharp – we're not out of the woods yet."_

Miyu understood the grim tone of his words to mean that Anthracite's base personnel would start giving chase to them at any moment. While beginning the descent down the long private road, she glanced in her mirror and saw three black military SUVs turning out of the base in pursuit of her and Vincent's vans. Instinctively, she ducked her head to the right in time to watch a bullet fired from one of the vehicles blaze a hole through the mirror. Bullets pelted the van as the convoy neared the long bridge that ran over the lake responsible for providing the base's power.

While keeping the gas pedal planted to the floor, Miyu shouted, "Hartmann! This isn't a drawbridge, is it?"

Hartmann froze. "Oh shit."

No sooner had he spoken than the middle of the lengthy bridge began to lift up. The pavement under the van's wheels transitioned from the road's asphalt to the wiry mesh of the bridge, but over five hundred feet separated the van from the center of the structure. The drawbridge continued to rise. By this point, Miyu guessed that its angle could have measured roughly fifteen degrees. All the while, more bullets from behind riddled the van. With fear in her voice, she yelped, "Hold on, everybody!"

A flash of black appeared in her mirror, warning her that Vincent was close behind in his van. She knew that like her, he would not entertain the slightest thought of stopping in front of the ever-increasing gap in the bridge. When she closed to within fifty feet of the rising drawbridge, she clenched her fists and held the steering wheel with an iron grip.

Then, the van's front suspension jolted. The vehicle angled upwards, leaving the surface of the bridge and soaring through the air. Time slowed to a crawl for Miyu. This could either end in triumph or the bitter defeat of the van smashing into the underside of the bridge and falling into the lake. Despite her optimism, she knew that it would be difficult – at best – to survive the second eventuality. So, with her teeth gritted, she held her breath.

A moment later, the van's wheels slammed down on the opposite side of the drawbridge. The entire vehicle threatened to skid out of control and barrel though the bridge's railings, but Miyu masterfully wrenched the wheel into submission and straightened out her course. A collective gasp of relief filled the van, and it turned to jubilation when Vincent's van sped past on the left.

The bullets ceased pelting the van, the pursuing SUVs slowed to a stop on the other side of the bridge, and Anthracite's assault helicopter lay in a pile of smoldering ruins back at the base, leaving nothing in the way of the two vans and their occupants. Pumping her fist, Miyu yelled, "We did it! Yeah! I can't believe that actually worked!"

Near the back of the van, Hartmann shook his head and replied, "Honestly, I didn't think all of us would be getting out of there alive. Call it a miracle if you'd like, or just chalk it up to sheer dumb luck."

"I say luck," Scarlet opined. "I've got a perk for that."

"Well, considering that your tits got us into this whole mess, I think I'd have to agree with you."

A confused expression crossed Xavier's muzzle. "Boss, what's that supposed to mean?"

Hartmann smirked. "It's complicated."

"No, it's not," Scarlet balked. "Miyu's dumb jacket wouldn't zip up, and now it's stuck on me."

From the driver's seat, Miyu offered an apology. "Sorry about that. I should have known better than to give you the jacket with the bad zipper."

Sensing that the conversation was going nowhere important, Fox raised his voice and asked Hartmann, "Did you put all the trackers in place?"

The husky nodded. "Sure did. We'll be able to track each of the planes to within ten feet of their positions at any given time. Hopefully this will allow us to get the info on the chemical weapons into the right hands. And you know what that means."

"Actually, I don't know what that means," Fox replied, scratching the back of his head.

"Why, we get paid, of course!" Hartmann laughed. "No good deed ever goes unpunished."

Fox narrowed his eyes, then leaned against the van's rear door. "I get the feeling you use that phrase a lot."

"You're not kidding," Hartmann sighed. "Freelance intel is one of the worst mercenary fields to work in. I think we're one of three companies in existence right now in that field, just because most of them get ripped apart by government forces or other mercs at some point or another. When it's all said and done though, I think it's worth it. Still, I have a feeling that we're not going to be doing this for much longer. It's starting to get too dangerous – our names are too hot, and once you've got a reputation attached to you, it's only a matter of time before someone comes to knock you off."

"I hear that," said Fox. "I guess we're heading back to the factory now, right?"

"Yep. But after this, we're going to pull out. You're on your own then. I hate to drop extra baggage on you, but I'm going to leave it up to you on what you want to do with Miyu."

Miyu's ears twitched. "Hey Fox – are you taking applications? I want in on whatever you're doing."

Crossing his arms, Fox adopted a sly voice and replied, "That depends… What do your skills look like?"

Abashedly, the lynx explained, "Well, uh…I actually don't have any special skills. I can shoot pretty well and do a bit of mechanical and electrical work, but that's about it. Sorry. Honesty is the best policy, they say."

"Hmm..." Fox mumbled. "I don't do this often, but I think I'd be willing to let you on. I'm working on rebuilding my team, and I can use any help that I can get."

"Great!" Miyu cheered. "What's the next mission?"

Fox's voice suddenly took on a grave, dour tone. "I'm flying to Warton, Corneria to go to my dead wife's funeral."

Crickets.

Visibly uncomfortable, Miyu shifted in the driver's seat and turned off Anthracite's private drive. With the van on public roads, the final threat of Anthracite attacking them disappeared. Trying to lighten up the conversation, she peeked out of her peripheral vision and asked the vixen behind her, "Hey Scarlet – what are you doing next?"

"I'm going to give my parents a surprise visit. They're also in Warton, so it'll work out great. Wanna come with me?"

Miyu's ears shot up in surprise. "Um, I don't even know you. Are you sure about that?"

"Of course! My parents would love you. You kind of look like them."

"Are you telling me that I look like a fox?" Miyu questioned, narrowing her eyes before a realization dawned on her. "Oh…adopted parents. I see. Well, I'll think about it, but I'm sure I want to do that. No offense."

"No offense taken," Scarlet replied.

Rounding a corner on the mountainous road leading back down into Warton, Miyu spotted something on the edge of the pavement. As it came closer, she recognized it as the police officer who had stopped them earlier. Her clothes looked torn and burnt, and her posture hinted at both pain and desperation. Miyu looked over her shoulder and announced, "Hey Xav – it's that cop lady from earlier. She looks hurt. Do you want to stop and help her?"

"What? She survived? Pull over _now."_

A split second later, Hartmann violently waved his teammate off and snapped, "Are you serious? Keep going!"

"But she's hurt, and we're in the middle of nowhere!" Xavier protested. "Miyu, just listen to me. Pull over and see if she's all right."

The squeaking of brakes filled the air as Miyu slowed the van and pulled off on the side of the road in front of the police vixen. A mere five feet away from her, Miyu recognized the genuine pain in her eyes and could tell that her injuries needed attention. Rolling down her window, Miyu poked her head out and asked the vixen, "Are you okay? Did you get the van driver?"

"No – that turtle flew away in his stupid wheelchair, and my shock pistol fell into the water and shorted out," the officer lamented. "Can you help me? I can't get any reception out here, and my leg is bleeding. I promise that I won't arrest you if you help me."

Miyu took a deep breath, knowing that Hartmann would disapprove of her allowing the police woman to climb into the van. Nevertheless, she felt that it was the right thing to do. With uncertainty, she told the woman, "Come on in. We can drop you off on the way back to where we're going."

"Thank you so much," the woman replied, noticing 'Skidd' sitting in the front next to Miyu. "Is the back okay?"

Miyu looked over her shoulder at Scarlet and "Skidd's" wheelchair. "Um…sure."

Walking with a limp, the vixen gripped the side door behind Miyu and slid it open. Her eyes widened when she noticed Scarlet inside the vehicle. Despite not being able to place her, she felt like she had known her at some point. Without a word, Scarlet slid over, allowing the injured officer to crawl into the back of the van and close the door behind her.

While Miyu pulled back onto the road, the officer looked Scarlet in the eyes and asked her, "Do I know you?"

Scarlet smiled at the vixen and took in her appearance, undeniably similar to her own. Apart from the officer's blue hair in place of her own black locks and her slightly different choice of clothing, precious little separated the two of them in terms of looks. "I think I'm your evil twin," she commented.

The officer narrowed her eyes. "What do you mean by that?"

"Nothing that you would understand," Scarlet answered. "Just enjoy the ride while it lasts."

* * *

 _-_ § _-_

* * *

After dropping the police vixen off in front of a hospital in Golstave, Onyx's two vans made their way back to the abandoned factory and pulled into the front garage area. At long last, both vans rolled to a stop, bringing the madness to a conclusive end. Already exhausted from her work in escaping the base, Miyu exhaled and unbuckled her seatbelt, then pushed her door open and set foot on the concrete floor. Everyone else in the van followed suit, with Fox leaping out of the back of the van in a flurry of panic. He recalled that he had allowed Krystal to wear one of Scarlet's catsuits, and he wanted to make sure that he would be in a position to intercede if Scarlet saw her and flew off the handle.

Which was exactly what happened.

The instant Scarlet exited the van, her eyes zeroed in on the blue-furred fox seated against the back wall, bound with ropes, and wearing _her_ catsuit. For a second, she did a double take, then snarled at Fox. "What is that woman doing here, and more importantly, _why is she_ _wearing my catsuit?!"_

Fox held out both of his hands and nervously replied, "It's a long story. The short version is that she turned out to be a spy working for Macbeth and we've been keeping her here to prevent her from getting away. She's wearing your catsuit because she got shot and bled out all over her clothes, but also because I can't see why you'd ever wear that one."

"Well, I'll have you know that I custom ordered 'that one' and paid more than C400 for it!" Scarlet huffed.

Fox crossed his arms and gave the vixen a nervous smile. "Well, it was a waste, because blue is a terrible color on you. Admit it – it looks great on her."

Scarlet turned her furious eyes towards Krystal and was forced to admit that Fox had a point. "Fine. You win. I won't force her to take it off – for now. But wait, you said that she was a spy for Macbeth? What are Bruno and his guys going to do with her?"

At that moment, Fox realized that Scarlet would not take well to his plan for Krystal. Well, he never expected her to agree to his plan from the beginning, but with Scarlet in front of him, he understood just how upset she would become. Fearing that the vixen would punch him, he took a step back and explained, "Um…actually, I made a deal with Hartmann earlier this morning. He wanted to kill her now that they've got all of her information, but I offered to…uh…take her with us when we leave."

Scarlet's pupils dilated. "You did _what?"_

"I felt terrible for her," Fox retorted. "I personally watched her supervisor disavow her and call her his 'worthless associate'. She doesn't have anywhere to go, and I'm confident that she won't run off if we keep a close enough eye on her. Also, I think she likes me."

As Fox feared, Scarlet pulled her arm back and pummeled his shoulder. "Of course she likes you, idiot. What woman _wouldn't_ like a man like you, with your toned muscles, your perfect eyes, and your undeniably awesome job title?"

"Wow, that was unbelievably shallow," Fox quipped.

"Right, but that's all she knows about you right now, so there." She paused for a moment. Then, a ghastly expression appeared on her face. "Oh, please don't tell me you're thinking about recruiting her."

Shaking his head, Fox replied, "Luckily for you, I'm not planning on it. Instead, I was planning to leave her at my family's land in the mountains near Warton while we're in town."

"I think that idea might actually be worse," Scarlet groaned. "I'm going to have to be careful not to get captured again, because whenever I'm away, you turn around and make a crap-ton of stupid decisions."

Fox rolled his eyes and smirked. "What's ironic is that you might as well be the living, breathing definition of a rash decision."

"What do you mean, rash? I don't have any rashes."

Letting out a groan, Fox let his face fall forward into his hands. After wallowing in frustration for a few short moments, he looked back at Scarlet and said, "I'm the leader here, and I get to make the decisions, even if you think they're stupid. In a few hours, we're going to get out of Katina; and when we do, we're taking Miyu and Krystal with us. That is final. Sorry Scarlet, but it can't always be about you."

Scarlet's ears and tail drooped. "Fine."

While the red vixen shuffled off towards the back of Hartmann's van to go through her suitcase, Fox approached Krystal and knelt next to her. As he gazed into her eyes, an unusual feeling of peace trickled through his body. Knowing that the blue vixen could read his surface-level thoughts, he decided to speak his mind. After looking around and making sure that Scarlet would not see it, he placed his hand on Krystal's shoulder and whispered, "Don't run off on me. I promise that you won't regret it if you just follow my lead. I'm going to make sure everything works out for you."

Krystal nodded, then gazed into Fox's eyes with her near-hypnotic vision. "I can tell that something's bothering you, Fox. What is it?"

Fox took a deep breath, then narrowed his eyes. "It's about someone named Rafa. I heard your supervisor talking about him in the warehouse. He said that he would be 'most pleased' with my death. I had a teammate named Rafa bail on me and my team at Northpoint, and I'm starting to think that the Rafa your boss was talking about is him. Please, if there's anything you know about him, tell me."

As he stared into Krystal's eyes, he noticed traces of fear and uncertainty creeping into them. Her voice faltered as she replied, "Rafa…yes, it was the same Rafa who used to work with you. I know that much."

"What could he possibly want? He was my closest friend in my unit until he suddenly snapped at Northpoint! What the hell happened to him?"

"I do not know the answer to that, Fox. You'll have to uncover that for yourself. But what I do know is that he is among the top brass of the East Fortunan Rebel forces. His ultimate goal is reclaim the territory on the eastern continent that belonged to the Empire of Macbeth over a century ago. That territory includes the eastern portion of Fortuna, the frozen island of Fichina, and the countryside surrounding Northpoint – and he will use any means necessary to ensure that he gets it, whether or not he has help from Macbeth or one of the old Imperial states.

"I always knew that he had ties to Fortuna, but nothing like this," Fox muttered. "Thank you for telling me about him. I really needed to know."

A faint smile caressed Krystal's lips. "You're very welcome, Fox."

Smiling back, Fox whispered, "Can you make me a promise?"

"What's that?"

"If I untie you now, will you promise not to try anything?"

Krystal paused for thought, then replied, "Certainly."

He held some doubts that Krystal would hold to her word, but nevertheless, he set to work freeing the blue vixen from her bonds. In seconds, his deft fingers untied the ropes binding her hands and feet together. The action caused Krystal to breathe a sigh of relief and stretch her tired limbs before standing up and thanking him. Tossing the ropes aside, Fox rose to his feet and took one final look into Krystal's placid eyes before he noticed Hartmann walking towards him.

Noticing that Fox had freed Krystal, he motioned for him to move a few feet away from her, close to the lunch table that had functioned as Krystal's operating area less than twenty-four hours ago. Fox found it somewhat amusing that he knew about Krystal's telepathy while Hartmann did not. It would not have mattered if he initiated his conversation halfway across the room, because Krystal would still be able to hear it with her mind. Still, Fox chose not to disclose that information to Onyx's leader.

As Hartmann opened his mouth, Fox noticed a distinct tinge of disappointment on his face – the kind of disappointment that comes from reaching the end of the road and having to move on. "Fox, it's been a real pleasure working with you. You know, when we came to Katina and set up shop here, the last thing we were expecting was to go straight into Anthracite's base. I would…well, if you didn't have your own thing going, I'd ask if you wanted to join my crew. No, really – I mean that."

Fox extended his hand for Hartmann to shake and replied, "Thanks, Hartmann."

The husky returned Fox's gesture of mutual respect, then reached into his pocket and pulled out a thin scrap of paper, which he shoved into Fox's other hand. "My contact information," he explained. "Keep it in physical form only. It's the best way to keep that information secure." A smile appeared on his face. "After all, I _am_ talking to a guy who gave away his exact location to both Macbeth and Anthracite by looking up porn on the web."

As he had with Scarlet, he blurted out, "It wasn't porn – it was artistic."

Hartmann burst out laughing, and when he finished, Fox also heard a quiet giggle from Krystal behind him. Clapping him on the shoulder, Hartmann said, "Relax, Fox – I think most guys have been there before."

"But I'm telling you, it wasn't dirty!"

"Uh huh – just keep telling yourself that. In all seriousness, though, thanks for helping me and my team out. I don't think we could have done it without you. I'll update you on the plane tracking and let you know how it pans out. I think you deserve to know. We're going to be pulling out of here later today, which means that you need to leave, too. Vincent will take you back to the parking lot where you left your rental car. Everything you do after that is up to you."

"Thanks, Hartmann. I get the feeling this isn't the last time we'll see each other," Fox replied.

The husky turned to the side, a faraway look in his eyes. "No, I don't think it is, either."

* * *

 _AUTHOR'S NOTE(S):  
_

 _Despite the power of electricity conspiring to kill me twice in the past two days, I have survived to bring you the final installment of the Darker Matters arc. Finally, it's over. Look for the first chapter of the next arc in the near future. As far as I have it planned, 2016 will be the year of_ Sierra Foxtrot. _By this time, some might wonder what happened to_ Parallax. _Well...about that: I actually punched in a few words over the holidays, but I just could not build up any desire to write it whatsoever. It's been that way ever since I started writing this story, and it hasn't changed yet. It's unfortunate, but I guess I just love this story so much that it's sucking all the inspiration out of my other projects._ _  
_

 _Also, I've got a fun new poll up, and I plan to keep it active for the indefinite future (so if you're reading this in 2018 if/when I finish the story, it'll still be relevant). I think it's something pretty much every person reading this can relate to, so check it out._


	15. Going Home

**Arc III: Funeral for a Friend**

 _Part 1: Going Home_

For the most part, the journey back to Corneria from Katina was one filled with an eerie silence. Apart from Scarlet giving Miyu a falsified account of the McCloud family's Christmas from the previous year, the _Great Fox's_ occupants sat with a restrained somberness that matched Fox's dour spirit. All of Fox's teammates knew that times would be rare when their leader looked as dismayed and downcast as he did now. None of them so much as dared to try cheering him up. It would have had no effect on him, anyway.

After crossing the Central Ocean and stopping in West Fortuna for one final refuel, Fox guided the _Great Fox_ to the airport in Warton, Corneria – his family's birthplace. Although he and his father kept residences in Corneria City, both of them had been born and raised in Warton, as had their ancestors. The municipality – tiny compared to a megacity like the Cornerian capital – was positioned near the base of Corneria's westernmost mountain range; and its location gifted it with the full spectrum of weather, from searing heat in the summer to blizzards in the winter, with luscious springs and color-soaked autumns in between.

Following the process of landing, docking his oversized cargo plane, and clearing Cornerian customs with his teammates, Fox stepped out of the airport's baggage claim area and surveyed the parking garage in front of him. Sighing, he turned towards Miyu and Slippy and said, "Guys, don't take this the wrong way, but could you just do your own thing until the funeral is over? I need some time to myself."

Miyu looked hurt. In response, she pointed to Scarlet and Krystal and asked, "What about them?"

"Yeah – what about them?" Slippy parroted.

"It's nothing personal at all," Fox explained. "My cousin Victoria will be here in a few minutes to pick me up and take me to my family's ranch, where I'm going to drop off Krystal. After that, Scarlet and I are going to stay at her parents' house while we're in town. I'll compensate you for any hotel fees you run up, but please don't open the mini fridge. I'd prefer to actually have some money after this."

"Dammit," Miyu groused.

Slippy looked at Fox with a hint of jealousy in his eyes, but said nothing. Feeling a bit awkward in his decision, Fox glanced at Scarlet and then Krystal, who still wore Scarlet's blue catsuit that she had managed to keep – at least for a little while longer. For a minute, the only sound that passed through the parking garage came from the sound of cars driving overhead in the terminal area. Then, Slippy broke the silence.

"Well, I guess Miyu and I are going to go hunt down a taxi. Good luck with your funeral, Fox."

Fox's heart sank. "Yeah…well, thanks. We'll get in touch after it's over tomorrow."

Watching as Slippy and Miyu shuffled off in the direction of a nearby airport shuttle, Fox sighed and shifted towards Scarlet. As much as he wanted to believe that she cared nothing about his situation, a subtle intuition told him that the opposite was true. A part of him struggled to think that Scarlet had the capacity to care for anyone besides herself, but he felt her sympathy for him. Nevertheless, he knew that she would not have attended Fara's funeral even if she had been invited to begin with, simply because she and Fara had never been on good terms.*

Meanwhile, Krystal's body language hinted at her deep uncertainty regarding her future. She was grateful that Fox would allow her to stay on his family's land for the time being, but she knew just as well as Fox did that it was anything but a permanent residence. Yet, despite all that, a tinge of anticipation simmered beneath the surface, invisible to both Fox and Scarlet.

Five minutes later, a compact blue hatchback pulled into the parking garage and slowed to a halt in front of the three foxes. Then, the driver's side door opened and his red-furred cousin with equally red hair climbed out. An autumn-appropriate long sleeved black shirt covered her upper body, complimenting her dark blue skinny jeans that showcased her shapely figure, although not to the same extent that Scarlet's catsuit did. Jogging towards Fox, she wrapped her arms around him and pulled him in for a hug. "Hey, Fox – good to see you again."

"You too, Victoria," Fox replied. "Did you get my truck to the land?"

The vixen nodded, then eyed Scarlet and asked Fox, "Is this the foxy lady that I've heard so much about?"

"Yes," Fox mumbled, avoiding eye contact with Victoria.

"Oh, don't be ashamed, Fox. It's not every day that you meet someone like her." Her eyes alighted on Krystal, who looked uncomfortable and out of place among the three related (no matter how distant) foxes. "Who's she? And where can I get her fur dye? I've always wanted to try that color on."

Krystal frowned. "Actually, it's natural. I'm an um…'friend'…of Fox's. It's a little bit complicated."

"Wow, Fox," Victoria remarked, leaning closer to her cousin to whisper into her ear. "You're really popular with the ladies. Maybe you should get your own harem."

Disgust riddled Fox's muzzle. "No way. That sounds like something straight out of one of my old teammate's anime shows that she insisted on blasting through my base's speakers."

"I was just kidding, you know. But seriously, you and Scarlet…"

Fox flashed his teeth and remarked, "I don't know why everyone seems to think that!"

"Oh, I can give you a few reasons," Victoria giggled. "What? Is there something you have against her?"

"You don't even want to know," Fox whispered.

Standing on the curb a few feet from Fox and his cousin, Scarlet crossed her arms and stamped her foot against the concrete. "Come on, this is getting awkward. Just get in the car already."

Victoria stepped away from Fox and glared at Scarlet. "Fine. Let me help you with your bags."

* * *

 _-_ § _-_

* * *

After a half hour drive away from the center of Warton, Victoria reached the opened wooden gate marking the entrance to the McCloud family's property. A quarter mile-long dirt driveway led the four to the front of a log cabin that looked like it had been built over two hundred years ago. Despite its age, it still possessed a certain luxurious quality that could never truly be erased.

An old barn stood a hundred yards to the left of the cabin, nestled amidst a grove of maple trees that had begun to show their yellow and red autumn foliage. To the right, a large pond was visible through the trees lining the driveway. The property stretched farther than the eye could see, but the only buildings on it stood in front of Fox, Scarlet, Krystal, and Victoria. Above the leafy canopies surrounding them, the regal West Cornerian Mountains loomed.

After helping Fox and his 'friends' with their luggage, Victoria said goodbye to her cousin, offering her condolences for the upcoming funeral before leaving her guests behind. As the dust clouds from Victoria's tires disappeared into the autumn air, Fox led Scarlet and Krystal up to the front door and unlocked it. The door creaked open, revealing a small, dust-covered dwelling complete with a bunk bed and a stone fireplace. Electrical outlets, plumbing, and even windows were noticeably absent, although this was understandable considering the age of the building.

Fox dropped Krystal's suitcase and looked at her out of the corner of his eye. He could see her disappointment. He watched as the blue vixen scanned the room and sighed. In an attempt to break the ice, he commented, "This is where you'll be staying for a little while – for the weekend, at least. I packed some extra clothes and food for you, so you should be fine. There's an electrical outlet in the barn, but if the power goes out, it'll take the electric company a few weeks to get to it. Sorry, but it's the best I could do for now. It's not like you have any electronics, anyway."

Krystal took a deep breath and lowered her head. "It's fine, Fox. I used to live in a place with even less than this. I'll be okay. I can take care of myself out here."

Noticeably relieved, Fox looked back at Krystal and replied, "Good. You can fish out of the pond if you need to, and there are a few fruit trees around here as well."

Behind his back, Scarlet fidgeted. While Krystal took her suitcase in her hand and pulled it towards the bunk bed, Scarlet accosted Fox and whispered into his ear, "Are you really doing this? Reducing her to a scavenger?"

Shocked that Scarlet had shown sympathy for the vixen wearing her catsuit, Fox turned and faced the red vixen, speaking in a quiet voice. "Do you really want to bring her to your family's place? Besides, we can't take her with us when we leave Warton. She's got to stay somewhere."

Scarlet looked uncomfortable. "Well, couldn't you let her stay in your apartment in Corneria City after the funeral is over?"

"No," Fox replied. "I'm afraid that she'll run off. I like her, but I still don't trust her. Not only that, but she could be wanted by the Cornerian government. I don't like keeping her here either – believe me."

Sighing, Scarlet took a step away from Fox and admitted defeat. She had no ideas for what to do with Krystal apart from what Fox had already decided on.

While Scarlet crept towards the rickety wooden door, Fox approached Krystal, who sat down on the bunk bed's lower mattress. "Um, Krystal, there's something else I need to give you."

Via her telepathy, she could tell that she would not enjoy his 'gift'; and her suspicions were confirmed when Fox pulled a small bracelet out of his pocket and fastened it around her wrist. Then, he produced a key from the same pocket and locked it. A small, green light on the side of the silver bracelet blinked every few seconds. "It's a tracking bracelet," Fox explained, scratching the back of his head. "I'm sorry, but I can't have you running off."

Krystal nodded, then lowered her eyes to the floor. "What are you going to do with me after the funeral?"

As much as Fox hoped that she would never ask him that question, he knew that it was all but inevitable. "I…I don't know."

"I didn't think so," Krystal replied, dryly. "I trust that you'll think of something before then, though. You're a good man, Fox."

Something about Krystal's words and the way she said them melted his heart. Lowering himself to the mattress next to her, he stared into her aquamarine eyes and sighed, "Thank you. I'll be back tomorrow evening to check up on you – after I've figured out what to do next."

"That sounds delightful," Krystal replied.

Then, Fox stood up, and Krystal watched as he exited the cabin with Scarlet. The door creaked shut and slammed on its frame. Then, all became silent until the sound of a truck engine shattered it. Even then, the noise from the motor dissipated over time until even Fox and Scarlet's mental signatures disappeared from her consciousness.

Lying on her back, Krystal stared at the bottom of the bunk above her and relapsed into thought.

" _I feel terrible for Fox. His mind is in a dangerous place. If anything bad happens to him at this point, I fear that he might do something horrible. I want to help him, but…no – I can't do that. I hope he doesn't take what I'm going to do personally. I'm so sorry, Fox. I promise that I'll make it up to you eventually."_

* * *

 _-_ § _-_

* * *

The roads above Warton wound through the hills among the lush maple trees that bordered the road. Due to the locale's distance from civilization of any kind, virtually no vehicles occupied them apart from Fox's black Velociraptor HPD pickup. Having given Scarlet the task of driving to her family's estate, Fox leaned against the passenger side door frame, feeling the wind whistling through the opened window.

Scarlet knew that the last thing he wanted was to talk, so she left him to his thoughts and navigated her way into the valley where the city of Warton was located. A borough of 90,000 people, it held a reputation as an 'artsy' locale that boasted a climate and an atmosphere that most of Corneria had nothing on. Many of the buildings sported an upscale, yet rustic appearance, different in every way from the ultra-modern urban architecture of Corneria City. Turning onto a road leading into the northwest outskirts of the city, Scarlet entered a development dotted with residences that looked more like miniature palaces than houses.

"Is your parents' house one of these?" Fox asked, his voice dulled with grief over the approaching funeral.

Scarlet grinned. "No. Just you wait."

Fox sat up in curious anticipation. If their destination was any more luxurious than the seven figure houses that lined both sides of the street, he would _have_ to know why Scarlet lived the life of a roving mercenary instead of a princess. After a mile, the houses thinned out, and tall grass replaced manicured lawns on the road's shoulder. A long corner with an oak tree at the apex blocked his view of the road ahead, but when Scarlet rounded it, Fox felt his jaw becoming a bit loose.

In front of them stood a tall, metal fence with ornamental brick supports; but Fox hardly noticed it on account of what was behind it – the most massive, opulent, ostentatious building that he had seen in his entire life. Palatial described it to the tip of perfection. Lush, green grass covered the ground in front of the 'house', and a gargantuan fountain sat in the middle of the yard that ended in a cobblestone path in front of the manor. The building set itself up as a haunting example of Gothic architecture. Covered almost entirely in light-colored brick, it resembled an ancient castle, with the one jarring difference being that its owners used it as a daily residence as opposed to creating a tourist trap with it.

"So, do you like it?" Scarlet purred.

Fox struggled for words almost as much as he struggled to comprehend how his catsuit-wearing accomplice could possibly have come from such an opulent background yet somehow manage to end up in her line of work. Slack-jawed, he gasped, "Are you serious? _This_ is the house you grew up in?"

"Well, it's the one I spent my teenage years in," Scarlet corrected. "I don't want to brag too much, but I will say I'm quite happy that the Altruis family chose to adopt me." Pulling off the road onto the concrete driveway, she stopped at the wrought iron front gate and reached for a keypad that jutted out from the ground outside her driver's side window. She entered the code, prompting the massive gates to swing open with a subdued creak.

"I don't think I can picture you the same way anymore," Fox commented. "I always thought you…" He trailed off before finishing with a question. "Hold on – how much money do you have? Seriously, I want to know."

A devious glint appeared in Scarlet's eyes. "Hmm…well, I'm the Altruis family's only heir, and I'm set to inherit this place eventually, so…"

"Um…I was just asking how much you were worth _now._ "

Scarlet tapped the bottom of her muzzle and thought for a moment, then replied, "About thirty million."

"What?!"

"Hey, don't freak out, Foxie. I'll tell you my secret. It's simple, really. You know all those jobs I've been pulling over the years?"

"Yeah?" Fox replied.

"Well, unlike you, who has to deal with paying teammates and buying and maintaining equipment, I don't. My overhead is tiny, meaning that I pocket as much as 75% of my payout after every job. Who's the master of economics now?"

Fox returned a suspicious stare. "I have a hard time picturing you as someone who wouldn't blow all their money on stupid things like a designer shoe emporium or a pony made of diamonds."

"I was never into those wimpy shoes. Boots were always my thing. Well, not always, actually. To tell you the truth, my 'mom' is the reason that I wear the catsuits."

"I'm not sure I want to meet these people anymore," Fox muttered under his breath.

"Too late for that," Scarlet laughed.

She followed the driveway up to the wide cobblestone area in front of the awe-inspiring building and parked behind a tiny, powder blue sports car that looked over fifty years old. The theme of antiquity in modern times continued with the vehicle in front of the blue car. One of under fifty working examples in the entire world, an ancient green roadster sat in line with the house's main door. Fox noted that in terms of size, it nearly matched his truck.

After putting Fox's vehicle in park, Scarlet turned off the engine and climbed out. She looked towards the imposing front doors just as they swung open. Two snow leopards walked out, both curious and bothered by the presence of an unfamiliar vehicle on their property. The female of the two bore a disturbing resemblance to Scarlet. Well, at least her outfit did. She wore a leather catsuit, complete with black biker boots. She kept her shoulder-length black hair straightened, allowing it to compliment her spotted white leopard fur.

Her husband looked more in place with the surroundings, and equally out of place with the rest of the world with his umbrella and bowler hat that matched his perfectly-tailored black suit and white dress shirt. Oddly enough, neither of them seemed particularly old. The husband of the two looked to be in his mid-forties, and his wife looked younger. Judging from their appearances, both of them seemed far too young to be Scarlet's actual parents. Considering that they had adopted her as a teenager, Fox wondered if either of them had been over thirty at that point in time.

The instant the two felines noticed Scarlet, all traces of unease disappeared from their faces. The leopardess sprinted towards her adopted daughter, throwing her arms around her shoulders and squeezing her enough to make even Scarlet feel pain. "I can't believe you actually came to visit! I'm so happy!" she exclaimed, speaking in a thick Zoness accent that sounded far too natural to be faked.

"Surprise!" Scarlet replied. "I hadn't planned on it, but visiting you worked out so perfectly with my travels."

Scarlet's mother gave her an odd look. "I thought you said that you'd try to visit sometime soon. Remember that text you sent me two days ago?"

"Um, no…" Suddenly, the realization hit her, and she turned and faced Fox with a displeased expression. "Fox, did you go through my phone?"

Poking his head around the front of his truck, he answered, "Yeah?"

"I really need to change that password," Scarlet sighed, looking back at her stepmother. "Well anyway, I'm glad it worked out for us to visit. It's been awhile, hasn't it?"

"Too long, my devious little princess."

Behind the leopardess, Scarlet's stepfather crossed his arms and glanced at Fox. "Say, Cynthia, who's this fine fellow that you brought with you?"

"Oh, that's Fox," Scarlet replied, adopting a suddenly sly tone of voice. "He's my boyfriend."

The skin beneath Fox's facial fur turned blood red. "No I'm…"

Scarlet silenced him with a curt stare that all but shouted, _"Just play along with it for once, Captain Buzzkill."_

Scarlet's stepfather looked Fox over and noticed his military-grade outfit, then commented, "I take it he's a mercenary like yourself."

"That's right," Scarlet answered, walking over to Fox and placing a loving hand on his shoulder. "For once, I've actually been assigned to help him."

"Well, that's certainly a new development," the leopard commented, approaching Fox and holding out his hand. "Pleased to meet you, Fox. I'm John Patrick Altruis, and my wife here is Emma."

Fox took note of their names, then replied, "Pleased to meet you, too."

Emma pointed at the manor and suggested, "Come on in, why don't you? Cynthia, I've been working on several new catsuit designs that I'd love for you to try on. Why don't you come with us, Fox? You could be our outside opinion."

"Er…I'm not sure I'm really the best one to get fashion advice from," Fox replied.

"Oh, come on," Emma laughed. "It's not that hard. Just tell us what you like."

Fox shook his head. "Sorry, but I think I'm going to sit this one out."

"Well then, maybe you'd like for John to give you a tour of the house. There's a conservatory, an amazing library, an indoor and outdoor swimming pool, a tennis court, and even a bowling alley."

Turning to the side, Fox let out a heavy sigh and stared at the side of the house. Truth be told, he felt miserable about disappointing his surprisingly welcoming hosts, but the grief he felt overpowered any joy that Emma, John, and Scarlet could hope to bring him. With a weary voice, he asked Emma, "Could you just take me to one of the bedrooms? I need some time to myself."

The leopardess glanced at her husband, who tapped his chin and said, "I suppose that wouldn't be a problem. Since you and Scarlet are together, I don't think she'd mind you staying in her room. Trust me – it's almost as luxurious as our master suite."

Fox wanted nothing to do with the idea of rooming with Scarlet, but at this point, he felt tired of trying to fight his hosts. However, deep inside, he secretly hoped that his red acquaintance could find some way to console him. He thought about what Hartmann had told him regarding Scarlet and how she had helped him forget about his deceased fiancée, and as much as he hated to admit it, he held out a sliver of hope that she could do the same for him.

As Scarlet and Emma walked ahead of him and John and opened the front doors, Fox looked towards the leopard and said, "You know, maybe a tour of the house wouldn't be such a bad idea after all. This place is enormous."

"Now that's the spirit," John chuckled. "This manor was designed to look like my old estate in Zoness, which unfortunately was destroyed in the Zoness War for Independence. That period of history was not kind to my family, which is why I've taken it upon myself to restore it to its former glory. Hence, this building."

Again, Fox stared at the sprawling front end of the manor that branched off into numerous wings on its right perimeter. "If you don't mind me asking, what did you do to get the money to build this?"

"It's a closely held secret of ours because, regrettably, the people of Corneria don't like me particularly much. But, I'll tell you since you're with Cynthia. I'm the last member of the old Zonessian royal family; and as such, I've inherited a tremendous amount of money, all of which will eventually be passed down to Cynthia – and you if you marry her, I suppose."

Even though he wanted to point out that he and Scarlet were not actually dating, Fox decided to play along with her charade. At the very least, it had the potential to put him on John and Emma's good side. "Er…I wasn't really planning on asking for her hand, but that _does_ sound nice."

Hearing Fox's comment, John glared at him and scowled. "Come now – what kind of man courts a woman without any intention of marrying her if the feeling is right?"

" _Damn – you're as old fashioned as you look,"_ Fox thought before pushing that idea aside and answering with, "Well, I'm just trying to see if the two of us would work together. She can be a bit unpredictable."

"Yes she can," John agreed. "I won't fault you for your caution. Now, if you'd like me to show you around the house, we need to do it now. It's getting dark, and the missus won't be kept waiting for supper."

* * *

 _-_ § _-_

* * *

After dinner several hours later, Fox and Scarlet shuffled into Scarlet's bedroom, which to his amusement sported numerous accoutrements colored with a garish shade of pink. The curtains, the sheets on her enormous bed – even the walls were covered in lines that alternated between light pink and lipstick-grade hot pink. The instant he stepped through Scarlet's heavy wooden door, he laughed out loud. "Isn't pink too girly for you?"

Scarlet punched him in the arm. "Wow, that was sexist."

"I was asking you a serious question!" Fox retorted. "I thought it would have been red or black or something."

"Hey – you know, pink is the color of warriors in some countries."

"What countries are _you_ thinking of?" Fox scoffed.

Scarlet paused and scratched her muzzle before she realized that she had no answer. "Um…I'm not really sure which ones, but there's got to be at least one somewhere. Anyway, can we get off the color of my room and focus on something more fun?"

Fox's muscled tensed up in nervousness. "What's that?"

Smiling, Scarlet pointed towards her door and explained, "The indoor pool is right down the hall, so I'm going to take a dip. You know you want to join me."

Fox's ears shot up, with their tips turning red. Trying not to look interested in her tantalizing idea, he turned to the side and said, "I don't really feel like reenacting that Christmas Eve hot tub episode from last year.* You can go on without me."

"You really are no fun," Scarlet grumbled, narrowing her eyes. "You know, if this is about you 'grieving' over Fara, why did it seem like you were fine a few days ago? Did something else happen between then and now?"

A sigh escaped from Fox's lips. He turned to face the ornate window looking out over the lush, green front yard with his back turned to Scarlet. "They say it's different for everyone. I guess the initial shock got me through the first few days, but now that it's over, the real pain showed up. I might feel a bit better after the funeral is done, but I'm not so sure."

To his surprise, Scarlet's voice softened when she offered her response. "Fox, you know I'll do anything to help you feel better."

"That's a bunch of crap," Fox muttered. "You're just trying to get into my pants like every other guy you've known."

A fierce growl emanated from Scarlet's throat. "If that's what you think, then you don't know me. True – I strut my stuff for anyone who's interested, but only a select few get the goods. You should feel lucky that I'm offering to make you one of them. And even if you don't believe me, I actually _do_ care about you. Why else do you think I'm still with you?"

The question had never crossed Fox's mind. Scarlet could not go to Fara's funeral; and since Foxfire Enterprises had no upcoming jobs or job leads, she had no reason for staying with the unit apart from Fox himself. Turning around, Fox faced Scarlet and let go of his frustrated façade. "I guess I never thought of that. You must have turned over a new leaf."

"Nah," Scarlet scoffed, "I just happen to like you more than most other people." Then, she turned around and walked towards the door. Before she exited, she looked over her shoulder and added, "You know where to find me."

Fox sighed and shook his head, then resumed staring out the window as the darkness of night eclipsed the evening. He looked around the room, still chuckling internally at the ridiculousness of Scarlet's entirely pink room. _"She is the most interesting person I've ever met,"_ he thought. _"Is there something wrong with me that keeps me from taking her up on her advances? What she suggested actually sounds pretty good right now. Maybe I should…"_

His phone chirped from inside his pocket.

At this time and place, he would have preferred to do nearly anything other than answer the call. However, he suspected that it may have been his father, or even Hartmann calling from Katina for some reason. He reached into his pocket and extracted his phone, only to see an unidentified 'RESTRICTED' on the screen. Swallowing, he stared at the word. In most situations, a 'RESTRICTED' number meant one of three things: that he was being called by either a politician, a high-profile businessman, or a military officer.

" _I hope this is important,"_ he grumbled. Swiping his finger across the phone's screen, he raised it to ear level and answered it. "Hello?"

A firm, authoritative voice answered. _"Good evening. I need to speak with Fox James McCloud. Do I have the right number?"_

"Um, yes," Fox replied. "Who are you, and what do you want?"

" _I am Brigadier General Maury Grimswell of the Cornerian Army, overseeing the East Fortunan counterattack operation, and I have some news specifically for you."_

Fox had a sinking feeling about what the officer had to say. Pursing his lips, he asked, "What is it, sir?"

Grimswell paused for what seemed like far too long, then began, _"A few hours ago, the East Fortunan rebels launched an attack on our position near the border of East and West Fortuna. They unleashed a weaponized chemical agent in our ranks, killing hundreds of our men. We had no choice but to retreat. Unfortunately, your father didn't make it out in time. If I'm honest, the best case scenario for him is that he was captured by the East Fortunans, and the worst case scenario is that he succumbed to the toxins introduced into the area. I'm truly sorry, Fox. There was nothing we could do."_

"I'm sure – 'no man left behind' and all that," Fox muttered through clenched teeth, even though he wanted to scream at the general through the phone. "Thanks for letting me know." Without another word, he hung up and jammed the phone back into his pocket, then held his head in his hands, unable to process the horrific turn of events. In addition to the pain of losing his father in one way or another, he realized that his efforts in Katina to track Anthracite's chemical weapons had been for nothing.

" _Is this…is this really happening right now?"_

Unable to handle the news, he dropped to the floor and sat in front of the window. At that moment, his soul felt as darkened as the night sky outside the Altruis family's manor house. For minutes, he sat, letting out a number of quiet sobs through his hands. Then, he heard the sound of bare feet behind him. He knew who they belonged to.

With a white towel wrapped around her wet body, Scarlet dropped her clothes next to her bed and walked towards Fox at the back of the room. "What happened, Fox? Something's wrong. Please tell me."

With some difficulty, Fox stood up and pulled his hands away from his face, revealing the dark spots created by his tears beneath them. "The EFR forces used the chemical weapons on the outpost where my dad was stationed. He didn't make it. Either they captured him, or he died from the chemicals. No matter what happened, he's done for."

Scarlet dropped her towel in shock. "James? Is he really…oh no, no, no, no. You can't be serious!"

Fox's grief possessed him so thoroughly that Scarlet's naked body did nothing to distract him. "The general in charge of operations in East Fortuna just told me about what happened. It looks like everything we did in Katina was useless. Those bastards probably had the weapons for weeks."

At that moment, Fox saw Scarlet do something he thought she was incapable of.

She cried.

Then, she clenched her teeth, threw her arms around Fox, and squeezed him as if doing so would provide some kind of anchor for her bewildered emotions. To her – and even his – surprise, he did the same. Both foxes cried on each other's shoulders for minutes on end. Fox knew that Scarlet and James had some kind of camaraderie, which helped him understand how she could be nearly as sad as he was. After three minutes of grief, Scarlet released her grip on Fox and looked at him with pleading eyes. Moist with tears, her blue irises seemed more captivating than usual. Looking more vulnerable than Fox had ever seen her before – which could have been attributed to her lack of clothing – she feathered the soft fur below Fox's jaw and whispered, "Fox, I need help. I need you to love me."

Amidst a tempest of shock and confusion in Fox's mind, anger set in. Nevertheless, he held back his frustrations and replied, "Are you serious? I can't even think about sex at a time like this."

"Then just hold me. Please, Fox – you're not the only one who's lost someone who means the world to you. I need you right now."

Fox made a mental note to ask her about how she had become a close friend of James's without his input, but he knew better than to bring up the question now. As much as Scarlet wanted comforting, he wondered how he could offer her anything in his mentally ravaged state. Then, he considered that mutually, both of them could ease each other's pains. After a long gap between words, he told Scarlet, "I think I might need you too. I don't even know how I'm going to get through the funeral tomorrow knowing what I know now."

Scarlet shuffled up to him and placed her hands on the hem of his shirt, then pulled it over his head. "Don't think about it. Focus on the here and now." She tossed his shirt to the floor and then reached for his belt buckle. However, before she could do anything more, Fox moved her hands aside and unfastened it himself, removing his boxer briefs in the process. He expected some kind of lewd catcall from Scarlet the instant his clothing touched the floor, but nothing of the sort happened. Instead, she leaned forward and nuzzled into his neck, burrowing into his downy pelt with her delicate muzzle. Then, she raised her leg and tried to wrap it around Fox's waist.

Fox took her hint and cupped a hand under her backside, then lifted her off the pink carpet and held her. She weighed more than he expected her to, but he had enough physical strength to hold her up. Scarlet locked her legs around Fox's back and closed her eyes, motioning towards the bed with her muzzle. Several footsteps later, Fox let go of the red vixen and set her on the bed. For a moment, she lay on her back and savored the softness of the sheets against her fur, then sat up when Fox pulled the covers forward and tentatively burrowed under them.

Without a word, Scarlet climbed off the bed and turned off the lights in the room, then returned to the bed and crawled under the blankets to Fox's left. Patting Fox's chest, she sat up and whispered, "Come closer, Foxie."

Fox obeyed, scooting himself towards the vixen until his muzzle was less than a foot from hers. His heart rate spiked when Scarlet locked her legs around his waist again, then asked for him to do the same. He realized that under any normal circumstances, acting this intimate towards Scarlet would disgust him; yet he wondered why nothing felt wrong about it now. Feeling Scarlet's breath on his nose, he imitated her position and locked himself into a snug, warm embrace that became even more amplified when Scarlet placed her hands on the back of his neck and licked his face. Her breath tasted like cinnamon, and the sensation of her body pressed against his felt far better than any pillow.

He heard the rustling sound of her tail wagging against the sheets, then took the opportunity to lock lips with her. Scarlet flinched, not prepared for Fox to make the first amorous move. As she melted into his embrace and traded kisses with him, she noticed some of her sorrow dying off. For the moment, she felt detached from the world and all of its problems. Even more surprisingly for her, she felt less disappointment than she expected when Fox snubbed her suggestion of a true intimate experience. As Fox graced her back with his deft hands, she exhaled an enormous sigh and rested her head on his shoulders. Closing her eyes, she whimpered, "Thank you so much, Fox. I hope you feel as happy as I do."

Fox kissed her on the forehead. "If you'll walk with me, I think I'll be able to get through this. I'm sorry I didn't believe that you actually cared about me."

"It's fine, Fox. I wouldn't believe me either."

For another half hour, Fox and Scarlet held each other, drowning their sorrows in each other's embrace until Scarlet fell asleep on Fox's shoulder. Being careful not to wake her, he slowly removed her legs from around his torso and laid his head on one of Scarlet's plush pink pillows. For a fraction of a second, Scarlet opened her eyes. Then, she crawled onto her back and laid down next to Fox. She took one final deep breath and rested her head on his shoulder, then drifted off to sleep for good.

* * *

 _AUTHOR'S NOTE(S):_  


 _*For more on this, read my accompanying story,_ "The Sierra Foxtrot War on Christmas," _written with the help of Elarix._

 _Come on, don't tell me you didn't see the Fox & Scarlet luv coming from a mile away. Well, I pretty much made it obvious that I was going there eventually, so... _

_Easter comes early with this chapter. There are so many references in this segment of the story that it is almost mind-blowing. The Altruis family's house, the town of Warton, Scarlet's stepparents themselves, and even more. Huge bonus points for pointing out any of them.  
_

 _Thankfully, this angst-filled arc will be a short one. It might only have two chapters, since it seems that I'm going to be able to put everything important into a semi-concise space._


	16. Standing on the Edge

**Arc III: Funeral for a Friend**

 _Part 2: Standing on the Edge_

Late the next morning, Fox shuffled into the funeral home where over a hundred other guests had already gathered to mourn the passing of Fox's future fiancée. He recognized virtually none of them, save for Fara's parents, who stood at the head of the crowd next to a large portrait of Fara. The painting showed her wearing a white dress with a yellow lily tucked behind one of her oversized ears. A contented smile graced her lips, and she looked at peace.

" _I can only hope she's in a place where she can always feel that way,"_ Fox thought to himself. _"I miss you, Fara."_

Despite all of his misgivings, he knew that he would have to offer his condolences to Mr. and Mrs. Phoenix, knowing full well that neither of them liked him and may have even pinned the blame on him for their daughter's death. His heart pounded in his chest as he pushed his way through the crowd of people gathered for the memorial. At the same time, Fara's father locked eyes with him and walked towards him. The elder fennec's face revealed a displeased, resentful countenance. Fox knew this could only go one way.

Trying to offer a diplomatic gesture, Fox held out his hand for Fara's father, but he shoved it aside and stepped into Fox's personal space. His canines poked out from the corners of his mouth as he growled, _"This_ is why I never wanted you to marry my daughter. If she hadn't fallen for you and your corrupt mercenary charms, she would still be here with us today. I hope you're happy, because I'm sure as hell not."

In spite of Fara's father's intimidating presence – even though he only stood one inch taller than Fox did – Fox chose to defend himself. "Fara joined my unit by her own free will. It was completely her choice."

"No, you seduced her," the fennec snapped. "I know what you did. Stop trying to deny what we both know."

Fox crossed his arms. "I was there when Fara asked to join my unit, and you weren't. Is this really what Fara would want from you and me at her funeral?"

"Oh, don't give me that," Mr. Phoenix rasped. "I am acutely aware of my daughter's reasons for joining your filthy enterprise. You seduced her!"

Under normal circumstances, Fox would have held his peace and moved on; but the gravity of the situation and the sheer frustration he felt convinced him to take another course of action. "With all due respect, Mr. Phoenix, you're full of crap."

A flash of shock crossed the fennec's face. He clenched his right fist and raised it, but then happened to glance over his shoulder and see his wife giving him a concerned, disapproving glare. Throbbing with rage, Mr. Phoenix lowered his fist, bared his teeth, and stared straight into Fox's eyes. "You're going to regret saying that."

He then turned his back on Fox and walked back up to the front of the hall where his wife awaited him. Ascending the three short steps to the small stage at the front of the building, he stepped up to the microphone positioned in the middle of the stage and announced, "If any of you would like to offer any stories or memoirs of Miss Fara, you may do so now. Thank you."

Fox noticed him trying to restrain his anger. For the most part, he succeeded; but traces of his rage still remained as he shuffled away from the microphone and allowed a middle-aged fennec in a blue dress to take the stage. At that moment, Fox realized that the entire procession would be awkward for him. The only people in attendance whom he even knew were Fara's relatives, and even then, her father and mother were the only ones that he knew on a personal level.

With misty eyes, the fennec vixen began her lament. "Fara was…she was the perfect niece. For all these years, I had the privilege of watching her grow up and mature into a lovely young lady. The future was always so bright for her, and even when things didn't go her way, she didn't let herself get discouraged. There was always something inside of her that kept pushing her to improve, to be better, to be a stronger person. I always wanted to live long enough to see her become a mother; and I'm sure her mother would say the same thing. But I won't ever get to see that. None of us ever will. Rest in peace, Fara. You deserved better than what happened to you."

As Fara's aunt walked off the stage and rejoined the crowd, Fox's eyes fell to the floor. He knew that he needed to say something about his late fiancée, but he feared that the blame for Fara's untimely death would be pinned on him somehow and in some way. Nevertheless, he shuffled through the crowd of well-dressed strangers as Fara's slightly younger brother approached the microphone in the center of the stage.

"Out of all the people in my life who left too soon, Fara is going to be the one that hurts me the most. I feel blessed to have had her as a sister and a friend, even if we acted like we hated each other when we were little." He cracked a dry smile, then assumed his sad demeanor again. "I wish things could have gone better for her. I respected her freedom to make her own choices, but I honestly wish she hadn't signed on with that mercenary unit. I don't want to patronize, but…I somehow knew this would happen. I'm sorry, Fara. We all make mistakes sometimes. I hope you didn't regret anything that you did."

Wringing his eyes, Fara's brother walked off the stage. All the while, Fox felt a pit forming in his throat. He felt that he needed to speak next. Only twenty feet separated him from the stage, and no one else appeared to be moving for the moment.

" _Alright – here goes nothing."_

He walked towards the stage, trying to avoid looking as disconsolate and uncomfortable as he felt. Then, when his left shoe touched the first step leading up to the stage, Fara's father locked eyes with him and stepped towards the microphone from his position on the right side of the stage, preventing him from moving any further. With nowhere else to go, Fox fell back into the front of the crowd. He felt his anger rising as the elder fennec began speaking.

"I have a few things I'd like to say about my daughter Fara," he began, using a voice that reeked of false sorrow and humility. "There is honestly not a single person in this world that I would rather have as my daughter. No one can ever take her place; and I think that's how she would want things. She was a talented young woman, gifted in so many more ways than I ever was. That's what grieves me the most about all of this. She could have gone on to much greater things, perhaps even chairing one of the Phoenix Corporation's subsidiaries. But we'll never know now, thanks to the two-bit mercenary scum who seduced her into joining his filthy organization and then had the audacity to ask for her hand in marriage. She deserved better than him, and she knew it, too. Yet for some reason, she fell for his deceptive charm, and it got her killed. If only she could have seen the truth behind it all."

He turned away from the microphone and paced back and forth across the stage, shaking his head. Then, he returned to the mic and glared daggers at Fox. "I'd like to know what went through that mercenary's depraved mind for him to deceive such an innocent young woman into throwing her life away for him. Oh, if only he was here right now, I'd show him…" he paused, then pointed at Fox and announced, "Actually, he's right here, ladies and gentlemen. Take a good look at him. This is the man who is responsible for Fara's tragic death."

At Mr. Phoenix's suggestion, the rest of the crowd turned towards Fox and stared at him. As the seconds ticked past, an angry grumble rose among them, filling the funeral home with a distasteful collective din. When he felt that enough time had passed, Fara's father spoke once again, still pointing at Fox from his perch five feet in front of him. "Do you have anything to say for yourself? Are you going to apologize for what you did?"

Fox met Mr. Phoenix's stare with his own furious eyes. No matter how much he wanted to defend his cause, he knew better than to think that he could convince the Phoenix's family's associates to believe him. The injustice and the shame he felt rifled through his body. He looked over at Fara's portrait and tried to suppress the tears that threatened to flee from his eyes. She wouldn't have wanted any of this for him.

When Fox made no response to his advances, Fara's father shoved the microphone in his direction and demanded, "Well, what do you have to say?"

At that moment, Fox ceased to care about what anyone thought of him. His sole focus shifted to his absolute disgust for Fara's father. He had never liked him before, but his willingness to play off his own daughter's death to shame in front of his friends and associates infuriated Fox so much that for the moment, he no longer felt in control of his own actions.

Eyes narrowed and ears pinned back, Fox wrenched the microphone from Mr. Phoenix's hands and hurled it off to the side. The microphone sailed through the middle of Fara's portrait and ripped most of her head out of the picture before it crashed to the ground and emitted a cacophonous barrage of feedback.

While the audience glared at Fox with mixed shock and anger, he climbed the three stairs to the top of the stage and stepped to within two feet of Fara's father. As opposed to the spite the fennec's face had reflected earlier, abject fear covered it now. Grabbing Phoenix's lapels with both hands, Fox snarled, "Here's what I have to say: what Fara deserved was a real father. You and the rest of your family are so disgusting to me that it's almost a miracle that I ever asked her to marry me in the first place. And now that this is over, I don't want to see you ever again."

With that, he took a step back and raised both middle fingers, then noticed an exit door behind the stage. Before anyone in the funeral home could process the sudden turn of events, Fox had already disappeared from the building.

* * *

 _-_ § _-_

* * *

After leaving the funeral home behind him, Fox drove away from the center of Warton towards the winding mountain roads that ran along the city's outskirts. With little traffic on the remote asphalt, Fox found time to reflect on the events that had come to define his recent life. Fara's death left an indelible stain on his heart, but the loss of his father wounded him even more. As much as he hoped that the older fox had survived the chemical strike and was holding up wherever the East Fortunan military had taken him, he realized that in all likelihood, he would never see his father again.

" _Is this really what it's come to? Everyone I love is either dead or MIA, I've been publically shamed at my wife's funeral, and my closest teammate turned on me and killed the rest of my unit. Can it possibly get any worse? Has it really gotten to the point where the only person I have left is…Scarlet? You know what? That does it."_

Up ahead around a deep curve, he spotted a gravel area off to the side of the road, and beyond that, a thick grove of trees that looked devoid of all signs of sentient and sapient life. He slowed his truck to a stop, then turned the engine off and climbed out. His shoes crunched against the gravel on the side of the road, then the sound under his feet changed to the rustling of leaves as he entered the wooded glen. The ground in front of him sloped upwards, and he pushed forward until he looked over his shoulder and saw nothing other than trees behind him.

He noticed a large gap in the autumn foliage above him and stepped into the center of it. The noonday sun shone directly downwards, illuminating the clearing in the forest more than the areas surrounding it. In a way, it almost appeared as if a column of light had fallen from the heavens.

Looking up into the sky, Fox shouted, "Why did you let all of this happen to me? Is this some kind of sick joke to see how miserable you can make me?"

Even though he fully expected to hear nothing, the lack of a response from the heavens still managed to bother him. Then again, almost anything could have bothered him at this point.

Enraged, he continued, "I don't have a freaking clue why my mom wanted me to believe in you. Is it all part of your 'master plan' to make me suffer for no reason? Answer me!"

As if on cue, Fox's phone rang. His blood ran cold. With trembling hands, he reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone. He turned the screen towards him and froze when the word 'UNKNOWN' covered the bar that usually indicated the caller's number. His icy fingers swiped across the screen. Then, he put the phone to his ear and whispered, "God?"

" _Kon'nichiwa, Senpai!"_

Fox gasped. He could have recognized that voice anywhere. "Rena? Is this you?"

A sarcastic female voice pierced his ears. _"Of course! Who else do you think it could be?"_

"I thought you were dead," Fox explained, his anger quickly turning to elation. "How did you get out of the embassy at Northpoint?"

Rena paused, then replied, _"Meh – I don't feel like telling any stories right now. Let me give this phone to someone else who wants to talk to you."_

A series of clunks echoed from the phone's speakers before a familiar voice spoke. _"Fox – I'm okay. Rena and I managed to escape from the East Fortunan military camp where we were being held."_

Fox felt like he would cry tears of joy at any given moment. "Dad – I can't believe this! You're both alright?"

" _Well, mostly,"_ said James. _"I took a few hits on the way out, but I'll live. There's something else I want to tell you, though."_

"What is it, Dad?"

" _I'd like to apologize for how I viewed Fara when she was alive. Until yesterday, I never realized how much she actually cared about you."_

A single tear dripped out of Fox's eye. "What made you change your mind?"

James hesitated, then groaned, _"Fara was the one who helped us escape. She survived the blast at Northpoint and was interned in the same camp as we were, but she was in bad shape by the time we were brought there. I'm sorry to say it, but she didn't make it out with us. The bullets and shrapnel damage got to her. The last thing she said to me was that she wanted you to know that she loved you and had no regrets about anything. She gave me her engagement ring, too. You can have it when we meet in person."_

Fox sniffled audibly enough for his father to hear it through his phone. "I already knew both of those things, but I really needed to hear that right now. Fara's dad tried to humiliate me in front of the whole audience at the funeral."

" _I was about to ask how that went,"_ James replied. _"I guess it turned out just as badly as I thought it would. Not to sound selfish, but that's kind of why I tried to avoid going to the funeral in the first place. It was almost as much for his sake as it was for mine. The temptation to shove a boot up his ass would have been too great to resist."_

"Well, lucky you," Fox griped.

After a short pause, James asked, _"So, how are things with you and Scarlet?"_

"Oh – so you _were_ trying to play matchmaker with me and her!" Fox exclaimed. "I knew it all along."

" _Well, what can I say? She's a special vixen. But seriously, are you two doing all right?"_

Choosing not to tell his father about his semi-intimate session with Scarlet the previous night, he answered, "We're doing well enough. She bothers me sometimes, but I'm starting to like having her around. You know, there's one question I've been meaning to ask about her for a long time."

" _Oh yeah? What's that?"_

"How did you meet her? Sometimes, you two seemed so close that it was downright creepy."

James chuckled through the phone. _"I think that's something you're going to have to ask Scarlet. It's our little secret right now."_

"I don't like the sound of that," Fox replied.

Still laughing, James added, _"One more thing, Fox – I just spoke with General Pepper, and he's honorably discharged me from the Army after what happened to me and my unit. I could sit back and retire, but I don't think I'm ready for it yet. I've still got some fight left in me."_

Unsure of what his father wanted, Fox asked, "What are you suggesting, Dad?"

" _I want to join your unit. I might be a bit old for active combat, but I've got connections all over the world that might be useful to you. If you'd like someone to provide support during your operations, I'd be more than happy to help."_

Fox's ears spiked. "What? You really want to do that? I thought you were always against mercenaries."

" _You're a different breed of mercenary, Fox. You follow your brain and your morals, not just the money. Although the money is pretty nice… Anyhow, just let me know if you want me on. But I'm warning you, if you say no, I'm going to have to find something else to occupy my time. There's no way in hell that I'm retiring just so I can go to breakfast every Saturday at McWendee's and then sit at home and watch daytime TV until my brain rots. I need action."_

Fox pictured his father as an old man sitting at a table in a fast food restaurant with his fixed income elderly friends and cracked a smile. No, he did not want his father to have to endure such a fate. "Well, I don't know how I can say 'no' to you. I'll have to talk to you about it in person, but if you have something to offer, I'm not going to turn you down. Speaking of talking to you in person, where exactly are you, and when can you get back into Corneria?"

Clearing his throat, James explained, _"Um, that's just the problem. Right now, Rena and I are in the Coppersmith Airport near the border of East and West Fortuna. It's in that area just north of the rainforest. Since we were both captured by the East Fortunans, we don't have any cash or cards on us. We're stuck here until someone bails us out. As Corneria's allies, the West Fortunan Army has offered to help us; but in all honesty, they've got more important things to deal with. I told them to hold off until I found out from you if you'd be willing to airlift us out of here. Since I'm pretty sure you're going to reinstate Rena, it might be worth your time. If you don't, it might be a little while before we can make it back into Corneria."_

Fox paused for thought and groaned. "I was just in West Fortuna yesterday, but if it's going to take you that long to get back if I don't show up, I don't see a better option than to help you out. All right, then – I guess I'll go round up Scarlet and fly into Fortuna. She'll be happy to know that you're alive."

" _I'm sure she will,"_ James snickered _. "I'll see you when you get here."_

When his father ended the call, Fox breathed an immense sigh of relief and slid his phone back into his pocket. He looked back up at the sky through the opening in the tree branches and whispered, "Sorry about that." Then, he turned around and walked down the leaf-covered hill towards the road where he had parked his truck.

If he had turned around, he would have seen two figures standing in the sunlit clearing. The first of the two had a distinctly vulpine form that he masked with a plain gray hooded robe. The second bore a striking resemblance to Fara, but with a full head of dark red hair, slightly shorter ears, and fur that possessed more of a red hue than Fara's did. She wore a light yellow dress, but no shoes. Her age seemed indistinct – she appeared to be both middle-aged and as young as a child at the same time.

As she watched Fox step through the trees and leave her field of vision, the vixen turned to the gray-cloaked being and asked, "Will you make sure that my son will be all right?"

In response, the gray man placed his hand on Vixy's shoulder and replied, "Don't worry, my friend. For him, the worst has already passed. But that is not to say that he will not have to endure more pain in the future."

"I understand," said Vixy. "Thank you."

As Fox reached the bottom of the hill and stepped in front of his truck, he thought he heard the sound of voices behind him. Putting aside his goals for the moment, he jogged back into the woods and looked up the hill towards the clearing, only to see the same pillar of light as before.

" _I must be hearing things,"_ he thought.

* * *

 _-_ § _-_

* * *

After returning to the Altruis family's manor and picking up Scarlet, Fox left the sprawling estate and drove out of Warton, heading towards his family's plot of land outside the city. In the passenger's seat beside him, Scarlet frowned and looked out the window at the passing trees. "Do we really have to leave already?"

"Yes," Fox affirmed. "If we don't, my dad and my old teammate Rena are going to be stuck in West Fortuna for a while. I guess you don't have to come if you don't want to, but do you really want to do that?"

Scarlet shook her head. "No, you're right – I want to go with you. I'm just bummed that I had so little time to spend with my parents, that's all."

"I understand."

Silence filled the inside of Fox's truck until Scarlet posed a question. "So, what about this 'Rena' person? What can I expect from her?"

"You can expect her to be a handful," Fox answered. "She's a bit, shall we say, 'eccentric.' She makes up for it with her abilities, though. There's a reason why she was my favorite teammate – apart from Fara, at least. She's the only person I've ever seen who's equal parts nerd and ninja. I think that pretty much sums her up. She can be hard to work with, but if you give her enough space and avoid micromanaging her, you should be fine. If you don't, though…she might throw a shuriken at you."

"Oh, wonderful," Scarlet remarked, rolling her eyes. "Changing gears here – what exactly are you planning to do with Krystal now? It's obvious that you've thought of something since we're only a few minutes from your land."

Fox clenched his teeth. "You're not going to like what I have planned."

"You're going to bring her with us, aren't you?"

"Yep."

Without a moment's hesitation, Scarlet reached out with her left hand and punched Fox in the shoulder. "Are you serious, Fox? We can't trust her! If we turn our backs for a split second, she'll probably run off!"

"True, but I can't leave her on the land forever. She has some outdoor skills and can probably fend for herself out there, but I'm concerned for her because it's going to be winter before we know it. I don't think that tropical fur coat of hers is going to do much to help her when the cold hits. Besides, with that tracking bracelet that I put on her wrist, I'm able to track her location to within two feet. If she does run off, she won't get far. In fact, let me check on her now. Hold the wheel and steer for me."

Scarlet reached over and grabbed the steering wheel, allowing Fox to pull out his phone and open his locational tracking app, linked to Krystal's bracelet. After a brief loading phase, a GPS map of the surrounding countryside filled the screen, and a small blue dot pointed out Krystal's exact location. "See? She's by the pond right now."

"I still don't like this," Scarlet muttered, shaking her head and relinquishing control of the steering wheel to Fox.

"I really hope you're wrong," Fox replied. "Luckily, I've got a good feeling about this. The way I see it, if we give Krystal enough of a chance and treat her well enough, she might be interested in joining the unit."

"Hmph," Scarlet scoffed. "What skills does she have to offer apart from being able to take pictures that make you hard?"

Fox scowled at the red vixen and remarked, "You know, I'm surprised you don't have your own website. Then again, it would probably be pointless, since you seem to be fine with flashing your goods in front of almost everyone."

"You didn't answer my question. What does she do well? Seriously – if she was that much of a failure as a spy, how much help is she honestly going to be to your unit?"

Fox paused, not wanting to reveal the secret of Krystal's telepathy, which at the moment was known only to him and Krystal herself. Despite knowing that Scarlet would dislike his answer, he explained, "I think that with a bit of training, she'd be useful. If nothing else, we could use her for our promotional material if that doesn't work out."

Scarlet leaned against the side window and rested her muzzle on her arm. "Fine. Have it your way, then."

"I think I will," Fox replied. "By the way, there's a question I've been wanting to ask for a long time."

"Oh yeah? What's that?"

"How did you meet my father?"

"Do you _really_ want to know that?" Scarlet asked, the tone of her voice becoming uncharacteristically dark.

Uneasy, Fox responded with a question of his own. "If you tell me, is the answer something that's going to destroy my father's image in my mind?"

"Possibly."

Fox hesitated, but curiosity eventually got the better of him. "All right, go ahead and tell me. I've got to know."

"Okay, you asked for it," Scarlet replied. "I first met him while I was at work during my junior year of college. If I remember, I didn't meet you until the Army hosted that training program later in the year."

"Liar," Fox blurted out. "Why the heck would you need to work in college with stepparents like yours?"

Scarlet narrowed her eyes. "I told you earlier that they wouldn't pay my tuition. Something to do with wanting me to learn how to make it on my own, or some dumb crap like that. So anyway, I found a job that made me a bunch of easy money, and I paid my tuition that way. James just happened to run into me while I was working my shift."

"Your shift as what?"

A sly grin appeared on Scarlet's face. "An exotic entertainer. I gave that old fox a lap dance, and man, did he love it. What's funny, though, is that we made a connection there. We actually went out a few times after that before we decided it would be better if we just stayed friends."

Shocked, horrified, and feeling like he might throw up, Fox covered his eyes and asked, "Did you two…?" He pinched his right index finger and thumb together, then slid his other index finger through the round opening a few times to get the point across.

In response, Scarlet laughed and clapped Fox on the shoulder. "No – it never went _that_ far. I'm glad it didn't, honestly. We ended up having such a great friendship, and it would have been ruined if we had done that." She stopped herself, then looked Fox in the eyes. "Now, don't be getting any ideas, Foxie. You know that I want that from you."

Fox rolled his eyes. "Do I ever. But now you've got me curious – how long did you work as a stripper? By the way, the fact that you used to do that doesn't surprise me one bit."

Scarlet giggled. "It was an obvious choice, really. I did it for a semester, but then I sprained my leg doing a pole dance and decided that I wanted to try something else. Honestly, I think the real reason I quit was because most of my customers were either kids who were barely old enough to get into the club or washed up corporate suits with no hope at love. It got disgusting after a bit. So, after I quit there, I took an internship at SeaPlanet over the summer as an assistant dolphin trainer."

"Let me guess…you did that so you could wear the wetsuits," Fox replied.

"I see you're starting to catch on," Scarlet grinned. "You know, I've taken lots of other jobs over the years, even after I started working as a freelance merc."

"Such as?"

"Hmm…it's a pretty long list," Scarlet replied. "Are you ready?"

Fox nodded, prompting Scarlet to begin. "Let's see…I worked in a motorcycle repair shop for a few months, I accidentally got myself hired as an accountant for Katina Heavy Industries, I was a bartender in rural Titania during the ruby rush five years ago, I lived on a ranch in northern Papetoon to get away from some mobsters who wanted me dead, I starred as a supporting actress in an obscure steampunk movie that you'll never hear of, and last but not least, I signed on as a lingerie model in Eledard for the Elizabeth's Secret chain. Seriously, I'm a household name there. It's hilarious. My modeling agent also offered me a spot on their calendar that comes out next year. I'm going to be traveling to South Zoness Beach to do the photo shoot next month, so you might want to plan accordingly."

"Um, I'm not really sure how my schedule is going to pan out, so I can't guarantee anything," Fox replied, scratching the back of his neck.

Scarlet smirked. "I see – what you really meant to say is 'That sounds great, but it makes me uncomfortable for some reason, so I'm going to try to back out and claim that I might have a job to do.' I can read you like a book, Foxie. C'mon – live a little. When was the last time you had a real vacation?"

Fox stopped and considered Scarlet's question, mulling over every break in activity that he had taken over the previous few years. After a few seconds, he answered, "It's been about three years."

"Wow, Fox. Are you serious?"

"Hey – the last three years have been tense for the Cornerian military; and when times are rough, it means that there's more work for people like me and you," Fox retorted. "I'd hate to just stop when I could be putting more money away for a quiet year."

Scarlet shook her head and countered, "Good answer – too bad it's completely untrue. What you need to understand is that there's always work for a mercenary. The only catch is that it doesn't always look like 'mercenary' work. So, have I convinced you to take a vacation yet?"

"Not quite. With this East Fortuna business going on right now, I'm half expecting General Pepper to call me and ask for me to do him another favor any day now. As I said, I'll have to see how it all plays out; but if my schedule is clear, I'd be more than happy to go with you to Zoness."

"Aww – thanks, Foxie," Scarlet cooed.

Fox saw the dirt road leading to his family's land approaching on the right and slowed down to make the turn. After his tires had left the pavement, he put his truck in park and unlatched the gate blocking unauthorized access to the property, then climbed back into the truck and drove on. Through the tall trees lining the right side of the dirt road, he looked at the placid lake, hoping to see Krystal somewhere nearby. The lay of the land lacked hills, which worried him. Despite every indication that the blue vixen was nearby, he saw no trace of her.

He stepped on the brakes and brought the truck to a halt. Then, he opened his phone again and accessed his location app. As before, the app's mapping system pinpointed her position next to the lake.

Sensing that something was amiss, Scarlet looked at Fox with concern in her eyes. "Is something wrong?"

Fox hesitated. "Yes. Come with me." He shifted his truck into park, turned off the engine, and climbed out. His eyes scanned the landscape ahead of him, but still no signs of Krystal presented themselves. With Scarlet tailing him, he jogged through the grove of trees separating the dirt road from the large pond until the leaves under his feet turned to grass. He looked in every direction, but saw nothing apart from the scenery around him.

" _Something is really wrong now."_

Perplexed and worried, he stared at his phone screen, which vehemently declared that Krystal was sitting on a large rock next to the pond. In the real world, Fox laid eyes on said rock – a massive monolith of granite that stood three feet high and twelve feet wide. Despite standing over a hundred feet from the boulder, he thought he saw something shiny on top of it.

"This can't be possible!" he blurted out, looking at Scarlet out of the corner of his eye. Jogging towards the rock, he focused in on its flat top, where a small, metal trinket lay. When he moved to within ten meters of the rock, he identified the small object as Krystal's tracking bracelet. But then, he noticed something else attached to it.

A small lump of sand-colored putty.

Suddenly, time came to a stop for him. The wind dragged across his face in slow motion. Fear and terror paralyzed every muscle in his body; and for the moment, he found himself unable to move. Too late, he realized what his life had come to. Then, a sharp pain impacted his body. He felt himself being shoved to the ground from behind. At that very moment, the explosives on Krystal's bracelet detonated. A deafening explosion filled the air, and a flash of smoke erupted from the top of the rock.

Adrenaline flooded his system, but this very rush of endorphins confirmed that he had survived the explosion. Taking several deep breaths, he collected himself before a horrifying reality manifested itself to him.

"Scarlet! No!"

As he rose to his feet and turned around, he saw the red vixen lying face down on the ground, unresponsive to any outside stimuli. "No, no, no, no, no! Don't die on me!" He knelt next to Scarlet, then grabbed her and flipped her onto her back. In spite of his feverish attempt to bring her back into the world of the living, she remained motionless. Her eyes held themselves closed, and her chest stayed perfectly still.

"No! Scarlet, why?!" he yelped. Falling onto his hands and knees next to Scarlet's corpse, he wept without restraint. Only at that moment did he realize how much he cared for her – at the moment when she was no more.

He reached out his hand and feathered her hair, shedding more tears that fell onto her face. Then suddenly, her eyes opened, and a warm smile appeared on her lips. Fox's jaw struggled to stay hinged as she laughed and sat up as if nothing had ever happened to her. "Wow, Fox – did you really think I was going to die this time?"

Waves of relief inundated Fox. With his hand still close to Scarlet's muzzle, he patted her on the head and choked out, "Please don't do that again. You scared me half to death."

Pushing herself to her feet and dusting off her catsuit, Scarlet replied, "Sorry about that. I couldn't help it."

In imitation of Scarlet, Fox stood up and looked towards the lakeside boulder, which now bore numerous blast marks. Yet, amongst the debris created by dislocated granite, he saw a tiny scrap of yellow paper on top of the rock. He looked at Scarlet, then reached out for the scrap and held it up. Although charred on the edges, the short message inscribed on it remained.

" _Sorry, Fox."_

Gripping the paper in his hands and rending it with his claws, he tossed the scraps into the breeze and stared at the horizon with a furious countenance.

"Damn it, Krystal!"

* * *

 _AUTHOR'S NOTE(S):_

 _I was going to put in a suggestion for music in this chapter in the form of_ Nuclear _by Mike Oldfield (that's where the chapter title comes from), but then I thought, "This funeral scene is so depressing, and I don't want to make it even more unbearable with sad music." I think I'll save the music refs for action scenes and boss battles.  
_

 _In a recent development, my writing tablet's built in battery crapped out on me and refused to charge. I have procured a replacement device, but in the process, I lost my outline for this story. Whoops. I didn't like the way I had planned it anyway. Looks like I'm back to where I started, which is honestly where I'd like it to be. Having that kind of freedom when it comes to writing makes it that much easier to turn out chapters.  
_


	17. Phantom Signals

**Arc IV: The Frozen North**

Part 1: Phantom Signals

As the _Great Fox_ touched down on the tarmac in the Coppersmith International Airport in the southern part of West Fortuna, Fox breathed a tense sigh. With Fara's funeral over and done with, he finally felt that he could move on with his life, as difficult as it was to do that. The massive transport plane rolled to a stop near the airport terminal, and after a moment, one of the facility's small airplane movers drove in front of the plane's front wheels and guided it into position. When all motion had ceased, a loading tunnel extended to the side of the _Great Fox_.

Turning off the engines, Fox unfastened his safety belt and looked at Scarlet in the co-pilot's seat. As opposed to her normal black catsuit, she wore a similar white garment with silver metal trim, accented by her tall, black boots and a trio of black and silver steel tail rings. When Fox stood up, she followed his lead and moved to open the side door behind the cockpit. In the crew quarters farther down the ship's fuselage, Miyu and Slippy noticed their leader preparing to leave the plane and jumped up from their seats.

Even though he disliked the inconvenience of having to fly back into Fortuna, the anticipation of seeing Rena and his father again thrilled him. Walking through the narrow boarding ramp into the airport terminal itself, he looked to his right and stared out the enormous plate glass window that covered most of the nearest wall. A large swath of the airport stretched out in front of him, with various airplanes coming and going. Beyond the numerous runways, the hulking trees of Fortuna's enormous rain forest towered over the airport and the nearby city of Coppersmith.

After clearing his team's passports with Customs, he wandered through the airport terminal, looking for Rena and his father. The majority of Fortuna's population consisted of primates in the south and felines to the north, but a vast number of other species accounted for the rest of the populace. This meant that locating his father amongst the rest of the people in the airport would be easier than it would in Corneria, where canines and vulpines dominated the population. Still, Fox kept his eyes opened for Rena in particular, since she looked nothing like any other person he had ever met in his lifetime.

Near the middle of the vast terminal, he saw a flash of yellow fur and shot his gaze towards a set of hard plastic seats near the terminal wall. Only two people sat in the area. The first was unmistakably James, but the second caused even Scarlet to raise an eyebrow. Seated with a set of white headphones over her long, pointed ears, a slender vixen listened to her music, oblivious to Fox and his friends. Her fur radiated a searing shade of yellow, and her white chest fur peeked through her black sleeveless hoodie, emblazoned with an embellished letter 'P' belonging to the Eledard-based progressive metal band 'Peripherals.' Said hoodie seemed like her only clothing above the waist apart from a pair of cloth gauntlets that she covered her hands and forearms with. She wore a pair of dangerously short black shorts; and if that had not been enough, a pair of black and yellow striped socks ran from her black combat boots almost all the way up to the bottom of her shorts.

Oblivious to her surroundings, she nodded her head in time with her music, causing her dyed white hair (with one black highlighted strand) to whisk about. That is, until Fox stepped up to her and pushed her headphones off her ears.

With her trance broken, the vixen yelled, "Hey! Hands off!" before she realized who had distracted her. She shut off her music player. Then she leaped to her feet and gave Fox a playful punch in the chest before stepping back to take a better look at him. For several seconds, she studied his appearance, then chided him. "It seems that in my absence, you've gone back to wearing those disgusting baggy clothes again. But no longer!"

Fox crossed his arms and chuckled. "Good to see you too, Rena."

"My pleasure, senpai," the yellow vixen replied. She then noticed Scarlet, Miyu, and Slippy and asked Fox, "Who are these stragglers?"

Cringing, Fox scratched the back of his neck and answered her with a tinge of frustration in his voice. "They're my new teammates. You know – to replace the ones who died at Northpoint."

"Sheesh, you didn't have to be so cold about it," Rena muttered, turning her attention back to the three behind him. "Hello, Fox's teammates."

"Hello, creepy yellow fox," Miyu replied.

Rena's ice blue eyes narrowed. The instant Fox detected her emotions, he held out his hands and explained to Miyu, "Don't provoke her. Seriously – you won't survive."

Miyu gulped, then stared at the creepy yellow fox, who pulled a ninja star seemingly out of nowhere and placed it in her hand. "Uh, okay. Sorry, Fox's old teammate."

"Apology accepted, foolish kitten," Rena slyly replied.

With the temporary tension resolved, Fox walked towards his father, who stood up and limped towards him. He cringed upon seeing the state of the elder fox. James carried a crutch under his left arm, and an eye patch covered his right eye. His simple gray military uniform reflected an air of authority, but the fragile, damaged state of his body marred it.

Horror in his eyes, Fox gasped, "Dad – what happened to you?"

James lowered his head. "I took a few hits on the way out. Don't worry, son – I'll live."

As his eyes lingered on his father's injuries, Fox felt his hatred for the East Fortunans rising in his chest to the point where it felt like a literal fire that threatened to consume him. "I'm going to make those bastards pay for what they did to you and Fara," he muttered, keeping his voice low enough for Miyu and Slippy not to hear him.

He wholeheartedly expected his father to agree with him, but to his surprise, the wounded fox placed a hand on his shoulder and whispered, "Fox, don't let your feelings of revenge drive your actions. I've seen too many people fall from grace because of their own anger; and often, they left a trail of destruction behind them when they did. Don't be one of them. Think, don't feel."

"Easier said than done."

"True, but it is still possible," James replied. "A true leader never lets his emotions get to him. He never flinches, even if everything he stands for is falling apart around him."

"Based on that, there aren't very many 'true leaders,'" Fox commented.

"You're right. In the whole world today, there are probably fewer than a dozen. I want you to be one of them."

Under his breath, Fox muttered, "Maybe it wasn't such a good idea to let you join my unit."

James heard him. "Sorry if that came off as sounding like an order. I'm just trying to help you out. I'd hate for it to take you as long to learn these things as it did for me."

"Yeah, I understand. I guess now that you and Rena are all right, we'll head back to Corneria. I don't have anything on my plate right now as far as missions go."

James nodded. "Sounds fair enough to me, although I wouldn't expect it to stay like that for long. Mercenary contracts in East Fortuna are on the rise; and from what I've heard, the Cornerian government has authorized the employment of numerous mercenary teams to supplement the troops protecting Northpoint during the infrastructure repairs."

"Does the military expect the East Fortunans to attack that city again?"

"Many things are possible now that Corneria has declared war on East Fortuna," James replied. "For some reason, capturing Northpoint is one of the EFR forces' top priorities. No one would be surprised if they attacked the city again. Emergency crews have gotten the lights to come back on in some of the more densely populated areas, but it'll be months before the city is back to the way it was before the attack."

Fox glanced over his shoulder and noticed Rena putting her headphones back on. Clearly, the weighty discussion about the war and Northpoint did nothing to interest her. At the same time, Fox looked at Scarlet, Miyu, and Slippy, all of whom looked ready to leave the terminal and move on to something more interesting.

He waved in Rena's direction to get her attention, then began leading the group back towards the _Great Fox's_ boarding ramp.

* * *

 _-_ § _-_

* * *

Airborne once again, Fox engaged his autopilot and leaned back in his seat. He looked at Scarlet to his right and smiled, then unclipped his seat belt and closed the partition between the cockpit and the area behind it. With a smile on his face, he asked Scarlet, "Does having my dad back make you happier?"

"Of course it does," Scarlet replied. "I love that old fox. He's like that crazy uncle everybody wishes they had."

"I don't know about him being crazy," Fox objected.

Scarlet grinned. "Oh – he can do crazy. He just doesn't let himself go very often. You know, if he's going to join your team, I'll have to consider asking you to make me an official member."

"I don't know about that. It's going to take more than that to convince me to sign you on."

"Really now, Fox, you seriously think all your teammates are in this because they like you? No – they see that you're in the business of making money, and they want in on it. You should be flattered that I'm interested in joining you since I'm the one who's been sticking around when I could be making money doing something else."

Fox countered, "Well, it's not like you really need any more money, Princess."

"Call me that again and I'll punch you."

"Princess," Fox smirked.

"Oh, now you've done it!" Scarlet leaped from her seat and lunged towards Fox. She clenched her fist, attempting to deliver a crushing punch to Fox's already-bruised shoulder, but he effortlessly deflected her attack and grabbed her arm. The parry caught her off balance, and she fell into his lap. Laughing hysterically, she reached up, wrapped her arms around Fox, and squeezed him. "Okay – you got me that time. Next time, though…"

"You know, if you keep punching me there, that bruise is going to become permanent," Fox joked, tickling her muzzle.

"Hey, but at least you'll remember me that way."

"I think I'd prefer to remember you a different way. Sadly, I think my memory slots are taken up by your shenanigans from years past."

Scarlet paused for thought. "Hmm…let me try to fix that."

"Um, by doing what?" Fox nervously asked.

Without saying another word, Scarlet pressed her lips against his and kissed him, knowing full well that with the cockpit partition shut and locked, no one would walk in on her. Not as if she would have cared. But three seconds into her amorous attack, Fox's phone chirped from inside his pocket. Even though he had started to enjoy Scarlet's sudden advances, potential business came first for him. Breaking out of the kiss, he slid his hand into his pocket and tried to extract his phone, only to find that Scarlet was sitting on that leg. Awkwardly and with a fair amount of effort, he dug it out, which obligated him to feel a good portion of Scarlet's backside in the process.

Scarlet's mouth fell open in both shock and glee, but her expression changed to reflect her curiosity when Fox put his phone to his ear and answered the incoming call.

"Hello?"

A nervous, yet full-bodied voice with a northern accent responded. _"Um…am I speaking with Fox McCloud, operator of Foxfire Enterprises?"_

"Yes," Fox replied.

" _Good, good. My name is Jaeger Hoffman, and I'm the security director of Bolovist on the southern tip of Fichina. I noticed your tracker was on; and you're the closest unit to where we are. Let me get right to it – there's been a…shall we say…anomaly a hundred miles north of this city in the frozen wasteland. Our sensors picked up an emergency SOS signal coming from the north. We sent a team to the area, but we haven't heard back from them yet. We're starting to worry that something might have happened to them. Their radios are completely dead. We're not getting anything from them at all. Is there anything you can do to help?"_

 _Fox paused for thought while Scarlet's tail wagged against his leg._ "What's the longest runway you have?"

" _8,000 feet,"_ Jaeger replied. _"What kind of plane do you have?"_

"An Antira C-245. It needs 10,000 feet of runway to take off."

A groan resonated through Fox's phone speakers. _"Do you think you could stretch that a bit? The pavement before and after the runway adds another thousand feet to the strip, and there aren't any hills or obstructions before or after the runway."_

"You're really desperate for help, aren't you?" Fox commented.

" _I'm sorry it comes across that way, but yes, we need help. Our staff here is small, and we can't risk any more losses. We've tried to contact West Fortunan military crews, but they're as good as useless right now. We really need your help, McCloud."_

Fox curled the corner of his mouth and thought. He figured that if the weather in southern Fichina was hospitable enough, he could theoretically land his enormous transport plane and use the same runway to take off later. Nevertheless, it would be anything but simple. As Scarlet continued to stare at him with a curious pair of eyes, he considered trading the _Great Fox_ for something a bit more practical. _"Maybe buying the largest cargo plane ever built wasn't such a great deal after all. The parts are all specialized and ridiculously expensive, it has annoying runway restrictions, and there's a C250,000,000 loan hanging over my head for it. Maybe it's time for something a bit smaller."_

With the idea firmly planted in his mind, he responded to the Fichina ground control. "Hoffman, I'm heading your way, but you'd better make sure that runway is clean. If there's any snow or water on it, I might not be able to stop in time."

" _We understand,"_ Jaeger replied, _"Our airport crew will have cleared the runway by the time you arrive. I know you're going to want payment for this, so I'm going to offer you C300,000 for it. Please take the offer – anything more than that is outside of our budget."_

Fox frowned. "Honestly, that's not a whole lot of money for us to fly that far out of the way. We're not rescue workers, either. I'll take the offer, but under one condition."

" _Name your terms."_

"If we find your guys and they're dead, we still need to be compensated."

A deep breath resounded from Jaeger's side of the line. _"Fine. I can work with that. What's your ETA?"_

Struggling to look around Scarlet, Fox squinted at his gauges and answered, "We can be there in two hours."

" _Thank you,"_ said Jaeger.

With that, Fox ended the call, then looked at Scarlet. She seemed comfortable enough on his leg and did not seem to want to move. "We're going to Fichina," he explained. "We'd better tell the others."

A sharp frown appeared on Scarlet's muzzle. "Fichina? That ice-ball? Really? What are we doing there?"

"It looks like a few Fichinan rescue workers went MIA while looking into a distress signal near the north part of the island, about a hundred miles north of the only major town. We've been offered C300,000 for it. I know it's not much, but it _is_ something, right?"

"Not worth it," Scarlet grumbled, crossing her arms. "Something about this seems…I don't know –weird. Not to mention that I hate the cold."

"Do you have any cold weather gear with you, by any chance?" Fox asked.

"Yes. Luckily, I packed one of my winter catsuits before we left my parents' house. I should be okay. Barely."

Rolling his eyes, Fox snickered, "Do you have a catsuit for everything?"

Scarlet's eyes lit up. "Of course. You really should see my whole wardrobe. I've got suits for hot weather, cold weather, tactical missions, snow, deserts, swamps, jungles, oceans, you name it. I've even got a few with tiger and leopard print and some others with camo patterns, not to mention the 'fun' suits like the one I wore at last year's Christmas party. I also have catsuit pajamas, but I don't usually wear them. It was a fun idea, though."

"Catsuit pajamas? That actually sounds pretty sexy. But what happens when you get invited to a fancy restaurant or a play? Never mind that you'd probably rather die than go to either of those."

Scarlet pointed an accusing finger at Fox and retorted, "Hey – I like good food just as much as anyone else. Sadly though, a lot of the so-called 'fine' establishments won't let me in. That's just too bad – for them, because I don't care. I'm not going to apologize for being me. If people want to keep me out because of what I'm wearing, that's their problem, not mine."

"You've always been your own person, that's for sure," Fox commented. "Now, can you get off my leg? We need to let the others know what's going on."

In obedience, Scarlet slid off Fox's lap and stood up. She then crossed her arms and scowled at her cohort. "This had better be worthwhile. I hate the cold, but I know I'm going to get dragged into this since your dad is hurt and Slippy is coldblooded."

Fox returned a sarcastic smile. "You called it. Really though, it won't be too bad. It's just a rescue mission. How hard could it be?"

"Oh great – now you jinxed it," Scarlet lamented.

Giving Scarlet a dismissive hand wave, Fox stood up from his seat and replied, "Nah. The only thing that might be tough about this job is the weather." He reached for the partition between the cockpit and the cargo area and pulled the door open. In the large, skeletal area sat James, Rena, Miyu, and Slippy. James attempted to rest on one of the small cots in the area, while Rena sat on the floor with a yellow laptop computer in her lap. As before, her headphones covered her ears. While Miyu played with her phone, Slippy tinkered with his wheelchair, littering the floor with small mechanical parts.

When Fox stepped through the cockpit door, all eyes fell upon him. "Attention, team," he began.

Rena pulled her headphones off of her ears. "You don't have to say anything. I already know what this is about."

Fox raised an eyebrow. "You do?"

"Of course. This is about that digital watch of yours that Slippy cannibalized for his wheelchair."

"Wait…what? Slippy? Are you serious?"

Slippy's skin turned a pale shade of green as he stood up and rotated to face Fox. "Uh…sorry, Fox! I needed something for D-Wheelchair's interface, and I saw it lying around and figured you didn't need it."

Fox folded his arms and huffed, "That was a gift from my dad a few years back. You should be ashamed of yourself. Of course, it was actually useless as a watch. Sorry Dad – it kept falling behind and almost got me killed once."

Slippy's expression of humiliation turned to dismay upon realizing that he had wired a defective timepiece into his wheelchair's armrest-mounted interface.

A second later, Fox changed the subject. "That's not why I needed to talk to you. I've been offered a job tracking down a few missing rescue workers in the north of Fichina."

A collective groan echoed through the plane.

"Hey – they've offered to pay us for it," Fox grumbled, waving his hands at his teammates. "Slippy, I know you're not built to take the cold, but I'm probably going to need you to fly the helicopter."

"No can do, Fox. The cold makes me hibernate!"

"That is not physically possible," Rena deadpanned.

Moving closer to his teammates, Fox looked at Slippy and said, "The chopper has a heater. You should be okay."

Miyu held out her hand and asked, "What's the plan here anyway? Is there any more information on this missing rescue crew that we should know about?"

"Thanks for asking, Miyu. I haven't been told very much, but I do know that the rescue crew was sent out to investigate a strange distress signal on the north end of the landmass. They disappeared along the way and haven't been heard from since."

Rena looked up at Fox with her eyes narrowed. "This is obviously some kind of trap."

"I thought about that," Fox replied. "That's why I accepted this job. If there's a reason to lay a trap like this in the north of Fichina, there's got to be something unusual in the works. A trap is only good if its victims are unaware of it. If they know about it, they'll be prepared to subvert it; and that's what we're going to do here."

From the right side of the plane, James spoke. "If a trap's victim sees it and walks into it anyway, it's still an effective trap. Don't be stupid, Fox."

Fox looked his father in the eyes. "I won't. We'll be in Fichina in two hours. Once we land and get the coordinates from the local control center, we'll unload the helicopter and use it to reach the AO. Slippy will fly it. Rena – you, me, Miyu, and Scarlet will check out the distress signal and try to locate the missing rescue workers."

Rena flinched. "Really? Are you that dumb? I don't have any winter clothes. I don't think Miss Kitty over here does, either."

Miyu nodded, confirming Rena's statement.

Taking an awkward step back, Fox scratched his muzzle before replying, "I'm sure they'll have some workable winter gear near the Fichinan airport. I'll convince our contact to provide winter clothes as part of the contract."

"Much better," said Miyu.

* * *

 _-_ § _-_

* * *

A matter of hours later, the small town of Bolovist came into view through the _Great Fox's_ front windows. Only a few thousand people lived in the snowbound village, but nevertheless, it counted as one of Fichina's most populated areas. In the air and on the ground, snow rained down with the intensity of a thunderstorm. The _Great Fox_ 's external thermometer measured -30 degrees Celsius. The number alone was enough to give him chills through the heavy winter coat he had donned.

As the plane neared the airport and moved close enough for Fox to see it with his own eyes, he shuddered when he realized just how short the runway was. He knew that stopping his massive freighter on it would take every ounce of skill that he had, in addition to a little luck. Reaching for a button near the steering yoke, he activated the 'fasten seat belts' light in the area behind the cockpit and opened his communications channel with the Bolovist control tower.

"Tower, this is Sierra Foxtrot 01, requesting permission to land."

A few short seconds later, a hoarse voice responded. _"Uh…tower to Sierra Foxtrot 01 – My display says that you're flying a C-245. Are you really trying to land_ that _thing here?"_

"Is there another option?" asked Fox.

Heavy breathing came through the _Great Fox's_ cockpit speakers. _"No, not really. The runway is clear and there are no obstructions before or after it, but with a plane that size, you're going to have to hit it just perfectly. There's no other air traffic in the area, so you are cleared to land."_ The air traffic controller tried to close the comms channel, but left it open without knowing. _"Someone, get the fire department out there_ now _. This is going to get ugly."_

"That's a real confidence booster," Fox mumbled into his intercom. As he expected, the air traffic controller offered him no response and instead closed the comms channel for good this time.

Gritting his teeth, he lowered his landing gear and slowly dropped altitude, reducing his in-air speed to its realistic minimum as the runway drew closer. Through the blinding snow, the soft, flashing lights on the pavement short of the runway marked the outline of the landing strip. Fox knew that he would have to catch his rear landing wheels on the extreme fringe of the pavement to have a chance of stopping on the runway. For a second, he glanced at Scarlet out of his peripheral vision and noticed her unease. He said nothing and concentrated on the landing.

The gusting winds buffeted the plane, complicating things further. By this point, Fox could count the flashing runway lights. Only a matter of seconds separated him from the touchdown. Holding his breath, he waited until the sharp jolt of the landing gear shook the plan. The rear wheels touched down on the yellow-striped asphalt before the runway itself. The instant all the wheels came down, Fox engaged the brakes, beginning the long, tedious stopping process. The brakes groaned in protest, and the entire plane shook.

The snowy conditions did him no favors. Even though the pavement seemed clear, the weather made the surface dangerously slippery. But worse, he saw the end of the runway closing in on him. A large pile of snow loomed beyond the asphalt. Red firefighting vehicles sat on both sides of the runway, prepared for the fireball that could result from a departure from the pavement. The _Great Fox_ continued slowing down, but Fox feared that it was still traveling too quickly. Then, he noticed the yellow caution lines on the pavement ahead of him. He had run out of runway.

His ground speed slowed to less than twenty miles per hour, but the piles of snow beyond the pavement started to become a legitimate threat. With his brakes clamped on, Fox clenched his teeth and hoped that the tires would hold. Then, the front wheels left the runway and crunched over the snow. At the same time, however, the plane came to a complete stop.

Fox looked at Scarlet in time to see her holding her tail in her hands and clutching it like a child holds a stuffed toy. He broke out in a nervous smile, letting out a massive breath of air. "That makes my decision that much easier."

Scarlet raised an eyebrow. "What decision?"

"My decision to sell this thing."

Looking through the front windows at the mounds of snow surrounding them, Scarlet nodded and replied, "I'm not going to argue with that."

* * *

 _AUTHOR'S NOTE(S):  
_

 _This new arc marks the transition into Part 2 of this story. There are three parts, so keep that in perspective. Also, with the new part comes new cover art.  
_


	18. The Shattered Fortress

**Arc IV: The Frozen North**

 _Part 2: The Shattered Fortress  
_

With the help of the Bolovisk airport's personnel and their aircraft movers, Fox and company managed to return the _Great Fox_ to the pavement and open the cargo area, which required the oversized nose cone to lift upwards. Soon afterwards, Fox activated the plane's internal loading ramp, slowly easing his team's assault helicopter out of the cargo hold until it could move under its own power.

All the while, a barrage of powdery snow pelted him and his team. Behind Fox, Scarlet wondered why anyone would choose to live in such a desolate place. She figured that the summer months probably made up for the torturous hell of fall and winter; but for the moment, the frigidity of the air penetrated to her skin, even through her fur and her thick, insulated winter weather catsuit, which looked similar to her normal black apparel with the exception of its thicker external shell and faux fur lining that poked out around her neck.

After a matter of minutes, Miyu and Rena emerged from the nearby airport complex, wearing heavy gray clothes that looked more appropriate for the weather. Along with them, a tall timber wolf with mixed dark gray and white fur walked out. He wore a heavy black hoodie with a stylized letter 'F' over his chest. Wasting no time, he approached Fox and held out his hand. "Glad you could make it, Fox. I'm Jaeger, the person you talked to earlier."

Fox accepted his handshake and replied, "Well, we barely made it. Your runway really isn't long enough for this bird. I think I'm going to have to do something about that in the future. That's not important right now, though. Can you give us the coordinates to the rescue team's last known location?"

The wolf nodded his head. "I can do that. Our last communications with them sounded like they found a large building out in the middle of nowhere. They believed that it was where the distress signal was being broadcasted from. What's strange is that they didn't see anything that would suggest that the building was occupied. I don't know what to make of it. Hell – no one here does."

"It sounds awfully suspicious," Fox replied, crossing his arms. "We'll take a look at it and try to find the rescue team – if they're still alive – but if this turns out to be a trap and we survive, we'll be coming for you. Do I make myself clear?"

Extreme nervousness dominated Jaeger's face. "If it's a trap, I swear that no one here had anything to do with it. If someone's been tricked, it's us, not you."

Fox scowled at the wolf, then turned to the side and muttered, "You'd better not be screwing with us. Send me the coordinates and we'll start looking." Then, he looked towards his father, who seemed to be enduring the cold with more poise than he would have expected. "Dad, stay here and make sure no one tries anything while we're gone. If you see or hear anything suspicious, tell me immediately."

James nodded. "I'll do it. Be careful out there, Fox."

"I will."

He turned his back on the elder vulpine and walked towards the parked helicopter, but before he could climb in, James raised his voice. "Hey – did I hear you saying something about wanting to sell your plane?"

Fox turned around. "Yeah. This thing is too big and expensive to operate. I'm looking for something a bit smaller."

"You know, I've got connections with an airplane graveyard back in Corneria. You could probably put some money back in your pocket by trading it in there. I could get in touch with Uncle Peppy, too. He's had some dealings with them over the years, and he could probably swing you a better price."

"I'll keep it in mind," Fox replied, climbing into the helicopter along with Miyu, Scarlet, Rena, and Slippy, who took the pilot's seat and started the chopper. In a number of minutes, he lifted the helicopter off the pavement and ascended into the wintery sky, heading north towards the phantom distress signal.

* * *

 _-_ § _-_

* * *

A half hour later, Fox and his team began closing in on the coordinates given to them by Jaeger. All around them, snow filled the air, falling with an intensity that made the snowstorm at the airport seem tame in comparison. The chopper's blades roared overhead, but the sound of the onboard heater nearly managed to drown it out. Slippy hated the cold with a passion, and thus, the heat control was maxed out. In the shotgun seat next to him, Fox stared out the front windows while the rest of the team huddled on the wall-mounted benches behind him.

"I don't see anything out here, Fox!" Slippy shouted over the tremendous din in the cockpit.

"Just hang on. There's got to be something to this," Fox assured him. Squinting his eyes, he peered through the icy precipitation and looked towards the ground. Then, he saw something unusual. Something concrete. "Whoa – check that out!" he yelled, pointing towards what could only have been a building. "It looks like…a full-blown military base. What the heck is it doing up here in the middle of nowhere?"

Slippy shook his head and tilted the helicopter forward. "I dunno Fox, but I've got a bad feeling about this. Something's really wrong here."

"I'm feeling the same way, Slip. Get a little bit closer to it, though. There's one trick that I want to try out before we do anything else."

"Uh…okay. If you say so…" Slippy lowered the chopper and closed in on the base, which upon closer examination looked more like a fortress than a remote wilderness outpost. Massive concrete walls surrounded the facility. Guard towers dotted the rooftop area and the structure's corners, and a large, snow-covered helicopter pad awaited them on the roof. But above all else, the element that attracted Fox's attention was the immense launch scaffolding protruding from the opened center of the base. It looked large enough to launch a full-size rocket into space, or perhaps something more sinister…

Two hundred meters from the base's walls, Slippy brought the chopper to a halt and hovered in midair while Fox fished a small yellow device out of his backpack and powered it up. Said device resulted from Rena's work before Northpoint. It functioned as a proximity scanner and life-form detector, capable of detecting anything with a notable heat signature from up to a quarter mile away. For five seconds, Fox scanned the building in front of him, then frowned. The scan turned up negative.

He looked towards Slippy. "I guess that means the rescue team died. But how? Shouldn't there be a vehicle around here or something?"

"You mean _that_ vehicle?" Slippy replied, pointing out the right side of the chopper's front windshield. Half-buried in the snow lay the remains of a red and white twin-rotor helicopter, ripped apart and riddled with bullets. He could only assume that the bodies of its crew were somewhere nearby.

Fox's mouth fell open. "Holy shit. So it was a trap, and they walked right into it. But why would someone set a trap here in the first place?"

"Well, we're probably going to find out now that we're here," Slippy replied. "Unless we pull out, which I think might be the best idea."

Fox growled, "Whether or not it's the best idea doesn't matter right now. If there's anything in that base at all, it's not sapient. Not that it makes me feel any more comfortable. Everything about this is wrong."

Slippy clutched at the helicopter's controls and looked at Fox with wary eyes. "So, what do you want to do here, Fox?"

Hesitating, Fox considered pulling out and heading back to the airport. After all, he could confirm that the rescue workers were more than likely dead. He figured that he could finagle a deal out of Jaeger despite the brevity of the mission, but something about the abandoned winter fortress drew him in like a mosquito to the bug zapper on Uncle Peppy's back porch.

"Put us down. We'll scout out the area and try to find that distress signal. After we debark, stay in the immediate area and be ready to fire on anything that looks even remotely hostile."

Slippy shook his head. "Alright, if you say so."

With that, the amphibian lowered the chopper to the icy tundra below, hovering three feet off the ground. The spinning rotors overhead churned up the snow and sent a heavy spray of wintry precipitation in all directions. Unclipping his safety harness, Fox vaulted out of his seat and climbed into the chopper's crew area where the rest of the team sat. "Attention, team!" he shouted over the sound of the pounding rotors and the raging heater.

Rena raised a finger and cut him off. "Seriously Fox, we all know you're the boss here. You don't have to make a show about it every time you talk."

For any other person, Fox would have lost his temper; but because it was Rena, he made an exception for his wrath. Nevertheless, he decided to fight snark with snark. "Oh, okay then. How about this? The distress signal is coming from that fortress that you can see through the front windows, so we're going to go in there and fuck shit up. Don't worry about the rescue crew, because they're already dead. Sound like a plan?"

Crickets.

Then, Scarlet burst out laughing and fell out of her seat. She landed on her stomach, pounding the floor in hysterical laughter. "Oh my word – I _cannot_ take you seriously anymore! I love it!"

Fox crossed his arms and glared disapprovingly at the red vixen. "Too bad, because that's the last time I try to explain an objective like that. Now, come on. There's something wrong with this place, and I want to know what it is. Everyone, keep an eye out for any hostiles. If whatever is in that base had enough firepower to tear the rescue chopper to pieces, we definitely don't want to get on its bad side."

He reached for the side door and slid it open, causing a massive gust of winter air to rush into the cabin. "Hey!" Miyu shouted, "If the rescue crew is dead, why are we going into that base? We have everything we need now. Let's get out of here!"

Responding for Fox, Scarlet nudged the lynx and shook her head. "Sorry, but he's having a dumb moment and _has_ to know what's inside that building. Good luck trying to stop him."

Miyu snorted. "Fine, but this is really unnecessary. Those guys at the airport had better be ready to pay up if we make it back in one piece."

Ahead of everyone else, Fox jumped out of the chopper and landed in the snow. Begrudgingly, Rena followed suit; then Scarlet and Miyu climbed out of the helicopter and exposed themselves to the unforgiving blizzard outside. The instant the team left the vehicle, Slippy picked up altitude and hovered a hundred feet overhead while pointing the chopper's missile cache at the front of the base.

Fox led the way through the blinding snow with his assault rifle raised and ready. The lack of heat signatures from inside the base concerned him, especially since the aftermath of a shootout hung over the surrounding area. He could feel it – this base had 'trap' written all over it in giant, neon pink letters. Nevertheless, he pressed on with Miyu, Rena, and Scarlet following in his footsteps. The temperature hovered well below freezing, and the snow on the ground felt more like rock than fluffy winter precipitation.

The towering walls of the frontier base loomed over them, now only a hundred feet away. A foreboding feeling came over Fox as he stepped to the side and noticed an opened door near the building's front left corner. The structure itself was nearly as large as a football stadium and every bit as high, not even counting the rocket scaffolding protruding from the center. Next to the opened door stood a massive roll-up garage door that looked large enough to drive two tanks through, side by side. At the moment, it was closed.

Fox's footsteps crunched over the icy snow as he neared the door. He pressed himself against the concrete side of the hulking fortress and crept towards the door. The rest of his team followed suit, with Scarlet bumping him from behind while Rena and Miyu tailed her by three feet each.

Fox glanced over his shoulder. "Stay quiet. I'm going to take a look inside."

Fox's comrades nodded. Keeping his eyes focused on the red dot sight atop his rifle's top rail, he crept towards the opened door and peeked his head out from behind the corner. Darkness pervaded the interior room, and nothing stood out to him whatsoever. After peering into the building, he motioned for the others to hold their positions before he reached for an emergency flare that he kept on his belt. Striking the igniter, he tossed the luminescent stick into the building. The flare clapped against the concrete floor, then burst into light.

At that moment, a barrage of other noises filled the winter air, overpowering the sound of the wind and the attack helicopter hovering overhead. All of them sounded mechanical. A series of beeps and 'blorps' echoed through the building, and a stampede of metal crashed against the floor.

Fox bit his lip. "Oh crap."

Not one second later, machine gun fire erupted from inside the building. A streak of bullets raced out of the opened door. The barrage of metallic footsteps drew closer to the entrance, rising in Fox's ears. By their pace, he could tell that at least five enemies were inside the door. He reached for a small grenade on his belt, but when his hand touched it, Rena moved past Scarlet and slapped his arm. "Fox! Use this!"

She held out a blue-colored stick, about half the length of the flare lighting up the building's interior. Not knowing what it was but still trusting his teammate's judgment, he grabbed it and pressed the button on the top, then lobbed it through the opened door. A blink of an eye later, a loud 'zap' rifled through the air. The sound of malfunctioning electronics followed it.

The hail of bullets came to a stop. Fox poked his head out again and looked through the door. Illuminated by the light of the flare stood a total of five bipedal attack robots that looked like distorted combinations of simians and velociraptors. The machines struggled for balance, but the sudden jolt from Rena's unidentified grenade seemed to have knocked their sensors off. "Move up!" Fox shouted. He sprinted through the door, opening fire on the machines. Bullets plinked off their armor, with some of the rounds striking important components and causing them to spark. He moved to the side as his teammates poured into the building and in turn fired on the incapacitated robots.

One by one, the machines fell to the floor, allowing Fox to pause and observe their surroundings. The room appeared to be a large chamber filled with white computing machines that looked nearly twenty years old. The ancient computers sat on desks on each of the room's walls, and stacks of papers and documents littered the desks and ground below them. The chamber itself featured walls that stood more than twenty feet high. Antiquated fluorescent lights hung from the ceiling, but Fox assumed that they would be impossible to turn on.

He stopped examining the room when he heard more metallic footsteps approaching him. They seemed to be coming from a hallway on the left side of the room. Frantically, he waved to his teammates and slid up to the corner of the adjacent hall. Scarlet fell in behind him, while Rena and Miyu took up positions on the other side of the large door frame. In the process, Scarlet's tail swished against a stack of papers on the desk behind her, causing them to fall to the floor. Fox ignored her blunder and looked around the corner as the clanging footsteps grew louder.

Looking at Rena, he snatched a grenade from his belt and held up three fingers. Then, he lowered one of them, then the next. When he had no more fingers to hold up, he held his hand in a fist, pulled the pin, and hurled his grenade down the hallway. Rena matched his movements and lobbed an identical explosive into the blackened corridor. Two seconds passed. Then, both grenades detonated with a roar. Along with it came two mechanized shrieks. Looking around the corner again, Fox noticed a pile of robotic debris coating the hallway and breathed a sigh of relief.

No additional sounds came from anywhere in the building, and although he kept his guard up, Fox felt that he and his team had cleaned out all the enemies.

"That was _way_ too easy," Rena commented, moving away from the wall into the center of the room.

Fox turned towards her and replied. "Things are usually easier when you've got the right equipment. By the way, what was that blue stick you gave me to use?"

Rena smiled and folded her arms. "An EMP grenade prototype that I'd been working on for a while. That's the first time it actually worked."

"You mean…"

"Yep – I had no idea it was going to do anything," the yellow vixen admitted.

Fox shook his head and muttered, "Well, thanks for being honest. As interesting as this place is, we need to find the source of the distress signal. It _is_ still transmitting, right?"

On cue, Miyu approached the two and looked at her communicator. Squinting her eyes, she said, "Yeah, it's still transmitting. It looks like it's coming from a room down this hallway here. Should we check it out?"

Fox looked at each of his teammates, starting with Miyu and then Rena before his eyes alighted on Scarlet, who had reached down to pick up some of the papers that she had inadvertently spilled. An expression of concerned curiosity riddled her face.

He moved towards her. "What is it, Scarlet?"

"These documents…" she replied. "The names on them – take a look." She turned to the side, allowing Fox to move in next to her and view the pages. Near the top right corner of the weathered paper, three names stared back at him like a trio of fiery eyes.

" _Dr. Desmond Moon"_

" _Dr. Leonard Brackett"_

" _Dr. Andross Bowman"_

Below the three names, lines of incomprehensible scientific jargon littered the pages; although Fox could at least tell that the documents had something to do with a mechanical project involving a piston and a sealed vacuum. Breathlessly, he whispered, "Did we just walk into an entire _vault_ of Andross's work?"

"Maybe we did. Those robots might have been his work, too," Scarlet whispered back.

Fox took a heavy breath that crystallized in midair and looked around the chamber. Then, he posed the question, "Why would someone activate a distress signal in this place? Unless…"

Scarlet's ears stood on end. "What, Fox?"

"What if Andross is here right now?"

"Be realistic, Fox," Scarlet chided, shaking her head. "If he's here, why are none of the lights on? Besides, he wants everyone to think he's dead. Transmitting a distress signal and giving away the location of a facility that no one knows about doesn't sound very smart. Not only that, but this place looks like it's been abandoned for a long time."

Fox nodded. "Good call." Gripping his assault rifle, he stepped towards the left access hallway and motioned for the rest of his team to follow him into the darkened corridor. At that moment, the flare that he had thrown earlier burned out, plunging the fortress into complete darkness. For a few brief seconds, he stumbled around until he found the nearest wall and leaned against it. "Flashlights on," he ordered. "Be ready for anything. I think we took care of all the robots, but there might be more somewhere else."

The clicking of the team's rifle-mounted flashlights filled the frigid air, and then light once again filled the area. Ahead to the right, Fox noticed a flight of stairs leading to a level above the ground floor. Operating on nothing more than instinct, he moved towards it and started climbing the stairs, all while stepping around the shrapnel created by the grenade-shocked robots from a few minutes earlier. His team's footsteps clanged against the metal steps, echoing through the building with a haunting aura. Apart from their boots and the sound of their winter clothes rustling, no additional noises stood out to any of them.

The stairwell ended in an opened door leading into yet another large chamber. Like the ground floor, it held a tremendous amount of computing equipment; but unlike that area, this equipment looked far more advanced. Screens covered each of the room's massive walls, and consoles ran below them. On the right wall, a large window that occupied half of the wall space allowed a small amount of light to fill the room from outside. Considering that the sun had fallen below the horizon an hour ago, it did little to light up the area. In the center of the room was a large central kiosk composed of computer screens and consoles that seemed important. It allowed its user to view the entirety of the room from one central seat.

And in that seat…

Fox stopped cold in his tracks and stared at the kiosk. Draped over the side of one of the consoles was a massive polar bear dressed in a weather-appropriate white winter coat with black trousers, with a pair of small spectacles resting on the bridge of his nose. He did not move an inch; and as Fox and company stepped closer to him, they realized that death had already claimed him.

"So, that's who set off the SOS," Miyu opined. "It actually _was_ a real emergency. This guy must have been attacked by the robots and tried to call for help, but it was too late for him."

Rena scowled. "Yeah maybe, but the better question is 'what was he doing up here in the first place?'"

"We're going to find that out," Fox answered. "Miyu, how about you check the body for any ID cards or anything else that we can use to figure out who this guy was? Scarlet and I will look for anything that he might have left here. I have a feeling that if he was desperate enough and had the opportunity, he might have left a log explaining what he was doing here."

"Sure thing, boss," Miyu replied. The ursine's body proved far too heavy for her to move, but she managed to dig her hands into his pockets until her fingers came into contact with a plastic card that she pulled out. Holding it up to her eyes, she noticed that it belonged to a large college in Fortuna that went by the name of 'Perevino University.' The bear's image sat to the left of the college's embellished letterhead, and to the right, his personal information read out in lines.

" _Dr. Desmond Moon. Species: Polar bear, Height: 6'4", Weight: 240lb., Fur color: White, Eye color, Brown."_

Setting the ID card down on the kiosk desk, Miyu told Fox, "Hey, this ID card says that his name is Desmond Moon. He's part of the faculty at Perevino."

Fox glared back at her while Scarlet's eyes widened. "Hold on – that name was on the papers that Scarlet picked up. According to that, Desmond was one of Andross's closest assistants."

"Do you think this could have been murder?" Scarlet suggested.

Fox shrugged. "I have no idea. It could have been anything…wait – what's this?"

Off to the right of Desmond's limp body, one of the multiple computer screens appeared to be functioning. Whereas all the others showed no signs of life, the long monitor indicated a working power supply. The screen was black, but not the kind of black that comes from a dead screen. It was the kind of black belonging to a computer in sleep mode.

Without hesitation, Scarlet jumped towards the nearby mouse and shook it. The screen responded immediately, bringing up an opened window that occupied the entire screen. In the middle, the words 'recording complete' read out in large, white print.

"Everyone, take a look at this!"

While Rena, Fox, and Miyu gathered around the screen, Scarlet clicked the rewind arrow at the bottom of the screen. The video returned to its starting point and showed the image of the now-dead bear frantically delivering a message. After taking a deep breath, Scarlet pressed play.

" _Hello to anyone who finds this video. My name is Dr. Desmond Moon. I'm a former professor at Perevino University and was a collaborator with Dr. Andross Bowman at one point. This building was Andross's secret research facility that he kept while working for the Cornerian Department of Science. It's where he, myself, and one of our closest associates conducted research that he wanted to keep hidden from the Cornerians. Listen to me – I know it might be hard to believe, but Andross is somehow still alive. He was supposed to have been killed via exile to Venom, but I found traces of evidence that he might still be with us. That's why I traveled all the way up here to this abandoned base. I had to beat him back to his old research so I could destroy it before he could get his hands on it again."_

Desmond's voice deep, booming voice faltered, then sped up as the sound of clanking metal emanated from the computer speakers. _"I created a surge that I hoped would fry the computers inside this building, but by doing that, I must have activated the machines that Andross had been working on before he was found out. Now I'm stuck in this room with only a handgun, and I'm almost out of ammo. I don't think I'm going to make it out of here alive, so if you're hearing me right now, I'm going to ask a huge favor of you. I need you to destroy every scrap of research in this building. Most of the computers are down, but Andross's old documents are everywhere. All of them must be destroyed. I deeply regret ever working with that madman, and I can't allow him to continue from where he left off. Some of the documents are blueprints for inventions that could change the world, but please – for my sake, burn them all. Don't even look at them when you do. The world isn't ready for them. They're too dangerous. Please, I'm begging…"_

He suddenly looked to the side and gasped. The accompanying sound of metal grew louder in the speakers. _"Oh no…they got me. Goodbye, cruel world."_

With a series of gunshots, the video ended, returning the screen to the place it had been when Scarlet found it. Fox took a step back from the monitor and crossed his arms. "So, what do you think of that?"

"Faaaake," Rena scoffed.

The frown on Fox's face intensified. "Why do you think that? It seemed pretty real to me. I mean, look – he's right here, and he's clearly been shot several times. His ID matches with his appearance and everything." Fox's eyes dropped to the floor, where a silver handgun lay with an empty magazine next to it. "His gun is even here."

"No, that's just what they _want_ you to think," Rena snapped, pointing a finger at Fox's face. "This is all a clever plot to make us think…well, actually I'm not sure what they want us to think, but I _do_ know that they want us to think something!"

Fox rolled his eyes. "'They' – meaning Desmond – want us to destroy Andross's files so that he can't access them again. I honestly agree with him here."

Moving towards her leader, Miyu spoke up and suggested, "Wouldn't it be better just to report this to the authorities? That way Andross wouldn't be able to come back here, and I'm sure they'd be happy to compensate us for what we found."

Crossing her arms, Scarlet sneered at the lynx. "Really? You want some government to come in here and take all of Andross's secret work for themselves? Yeah, that's a great idea. Personally, I think Moonbear here had a point. Well, unless – you know – we took some of the research for ourselves before we destroyed it."

"We're not going to do that," Fox affirmed. "I'm going to honor Desmond's wish and destroy all of the research papers. We're not going to be taking any of them. Do I make myself clear?" In particular, he focused his eyes on Rena, whose glacier blue irises looked cold enough to create a new ice age.

With some hesitation, each of the women nodded, then stepped away from the kiosk into the open floor. Miyu walked towards the long desk mounted to the back wall, then pulled a small electronic lighter out of her pocket and set to work incinerating the papers on the desk. While she began destroying the research, Scarlet moved to the front of the sprawling chamber. Looking over her shoulder, he noticed Fox escorting Rena into the back right portion of the area near the large window.

" _Well, no one's looking. Just one little peek won't hurt anything."_

Creeping up to the desk, she focused her eyes on the few pieces of paper on the faux wooden surface. Something on it caught her eye, and she let out a restrained yip of excitement as her hands gripped a particularly enticing document. _"Oooh – a formula for a drug that lets you have five straight orgasms without getting tired? Desmond was right – the world isn't ready for this. But I am."_

Once again checking to make sure that no one was watching, she unzipped the front of her winter catsuit and slid the piece of paper inside before closing up her clothing again and smiling.

Meanwhile, Fox followed Rena into the back of the room. Standing next to the large window on the right wall, she looked at the blizzard outside and let out an angry growl. "I can't believe this!" she snapped, looking over her shoulder at Fox. "You'd seriously miss out on a chance like this just because _a dead guy_ told you what to do?" With an angry swipe, she yanked a booklet off the desk nearby and held it up for Fox to see. "Look, Fox! It's an assembly manual for a freaking jetpack! You know you want it!"

"You're right, I do. But Desmond was right when he said that the world isn't ready for the stuff in here. Think about this, Rena: the guy who invented the nuclear bomb thought he was doing the world a huge favor. Then, when the first one dropped, he realized what he had done and killed himself. That guy had good intentions for what he did. If someone like him could create something that lethal, I can't even begin to imagine what someone like Andross, who didn't have morals or ethics, could have come up with. For all I know, there's a document in here that would start a zombie apocalypse if someone followed the instructions."

Rena's long ears peaked. To Fox's dismay, it seemed to be from excitement. "Wow – that's awesome! I always knew I bought that shotgun with a chainsaw on it for a reason."

"I should have figured that you'd take it that way," Fox huffed. "But really, don't you get what I'm saying? This stuff is too dangerous, and that's why we're going to destroy it like Desmond instructed."

Rena's heart sank. "Fark you. Fine, I'll destroy all these amazing ideas that could make our unit the most amazing mercenary group in the world. I hope it makes you happy."

"It doesn't, but it's the right thing to do," Fox replied.

Exasperated, Rena stuck her tongue out and taunted him before turning around and staring at the papers on the desk with her shoulders hunched. Fox began moving away, but as the distance between him and her increased, he repeatedly looked over his shoulder to make sure that she was not pilfering the files. Finally, when a hundred feet separated the two and Fox appeared to be interacting with Miyu, Rena eyed the papers in front of her and observed them. Along with the aforementioned jetpack, details and blueprints for a suit of powered armor and a man-portable laser rifle sat in front of her eyes.

She shook her head. _"Sorry Fox, but unlike you, I'm not stupid. There is no way in Hades that I'm going to destroy this stuff. I'm sure you'll thank me for this eventually."_

With that, she crammed the papers into her jacket, pulled out her lighter, and followed the rest of the team's example in destroying the remaining documents.

* * *

 _AUTHOR'S NOTE(S):  
_

 _I hope you paid attention, because there's quite a bit in this chapter that might become important later. Hmm...yes...  
_

 _It was kind of important for me to avoid making the same mistake with Slippy that I did in_ Parallax. _Namely, having his cold-blooded self tag along in the frozen tundra without a heater of some kind._


	19. Used Plane Salesman

**Arc IV: The Frozen North**

 _Part 3: Used Plane Salesman  
_

As Fox, Miyu, Scarlet, and Rena shuffled out of the abandoned fortress with Fox in the lead, Slippy noticed them from above and lowered the team's helicopter to the ground. Behind them inside the building lay innumerable piles of incinerated or shredded papers and computers that could never be powered up again. Fox, Scarlet, and Miyu felt jubilation at the fact that Andross would in all likelihood be unable to access any of his old records; and in Scarlet's case, she felt even happier thanks to her secret discovery that she kept hidden inside her catsuit.

On the flipside of things, Rena looked back at the base, almost in tears over the tremendous amount of research that no one would ever be able to recover. Like Slippy, she had a mind for information and engineering; and the loss of Andross's old files felt almost like a bullet wound to her.

" _At least I managed to get a few of the good ones out of there,"_ she thought. _"I'm going to make Fox eat his stupid decision. Who gives a crap about what that stupid dead bear wanted? He's dead! He doesn't care what we do! Argh! We could have taken that research and done incredible things with it, but no – Fox had to be a saint again and burn it all. Fark!"_

Because she was at the tail end of the group, no one noticed the anger etched into her muzzle or her clenched fists. As her three counterparts climbed aboard the chopper, she forced herself to soften her expression and look at ease. She knew that it would be impossible, but at least she could avoid appearing as genuinely angry as she was.

Sliding onto the left side crew bench next to Scarlet, she reached out and slid the cargo door shut. At the same time, Fox braced himself against the left side of the vehicle's frame as Slippy lifted off the ground. When the helicopter turned around and began heading back to the Bolovisk airport, Fox addressed his teammates. "Good job out there, team. That was flawless. You know, this is really starting to feel like an actual unit again. I'm sure as we pick up more members, things will get even better."

"Speaking of that," said Miyu, "What happened to Krystal?"

Fox scratched the back of his neck and gritted his teeth. "I don't want to talk about that right now."

"I understand. Relationships hurt, I know. My ex-boyfriend found that out the hard way."

"That's not what I…" Fox stuttered, before he realized that it would be better to change the subject. "Never mind. The idea is that I'm going to try to recruit a few new members in the coming months. Soon enough, Foxfire Enterprises will really be going again, just like it was before Northpoint." Under his breath, he mouthed, "Suck on that one, Rafa."

After giving the brief message to his team, Fox climbed into the co-pilot's seat next to Slippy. Meanwhile, behind him, Scarlet nudged Rena and whispered, "Is something wrong?"

"What do you think?" the yellow vixen exploded, albeit in the most contained way possible in order to prevent Fox or Miyu from understanding the depths of her rage. "All those documents, gone! I could have done so many awesome things with them!"

"I'm guessing you were Fox's old technician," Scarlet observed.

Rena nodded. "My field of expertise is in electronics and computing. It's not quite the same thing as what Slippy does. He's more into mechanics. Still though, you're not wrong."

Leaning over to whisper into her ear, Scarlet replied, "I've got a secret. Can you keep it from Fox?"

"Of course."

"I took one of the files for myself," Scarlet explained.

A tiny grin worked its way onto Rena's lips. "So did I. Actually, I took three things. I'm going to try to get Slippy to help me put the ideas together. I don't think he'll be able to resist."

"I doubt it," Scarlet agreed. "Say, you and Slippy… You might make a cute couple."

Rena's face hardened.

"Oh…I guess you're not into Slippy, then. I don't exactly blame you. I'm sure there's a guy out there who'd fit you way better. I mean, unless you've already got a boyfriend."

Rena's expression became even more violent than before, causing Scarlet to scoot away from her. "Girlfriend, then?"

Clenching her fists, the yellow vixen turned towards Scarlet and snarled, "I don't need a romantic interest, unlike disgusting slime like you who can't go more than two hours without succumbing to your primordial instinct to squirt repulsive fluids into each other's orifices. Ugh! That's _disgusting_! It's like taking a hundred million years of evolution and everything it's brought us and then kicking it in the crotch so you can regress to the level of a mentally impaired cow in heat! Oh, and then when you're done with your disgusting deeds, you put your clothes back on and walk out, looking all pretty and civilized when you're really just a filthy beast underneath all of it. But not me – I am above such base desires."

Scarlet rolled her eyes. "No, you're just missing out on all the fun."

"Oh, I've tried it," Rena countered. "After everything I'd heard, I was expecting it to be the greatest thing since the invention of the pizza wheel, but I was sorely disappointed. I really don't see the appeal."

"Wait – what's so great about the pizza wheel?" Scarlet asked, raising an eyebrow.

"You haven't seen my weapons collection, have you?"

"Um, no. Does it include a pizza wheel?"

Rena nodded with a grim smile. "Two of them. I think I'm going to have to buy some new ones soon, though. The edges have gotten a bit rusty from all the blood."

"Are you sure that wasn't just tomato sauce?" Scarlet nervously asked, sliding farther away from Rena.

"I know what I saw. You'd be smart to watch your back around them," Rena smirked.

"Uh huh…"

A half hour later, the chopper returned to the Bolovisk airport, setting down on the metallic mechanism connected to a rail than extended from the _Great Fox's_ fuselage. After the engines wound down, Fox and company jumped out of the helicopter and looked towards the rudimentary airport terminal in time to see Jaeger's lupine figure sprint out of the building, followed by Fox's father hobbling out with the aid of his crutch.

Turning to his teammates, Fox whispered, "Don't say anything to him about what happened. I'll handle it."

"Sounds good, Fox," Miyu replied.

In a moment, Jaeger approached Fox with a look of tension in his eyes and looked around in hopes that Fox's team had managed to recover the missing rescue team. "So, what did you find? I really hope it's not as bad as I think it is."

Fox scrunched his lip and held out his hands in an awkward position. "Well…yeah, it's as bad as you think it is. The rescue team was dead. All of them were shot, and their helicopter was destroyed. We checked out the building where the distress signal was coming from, and we found a dead guy inside. It looked like someone else got to him before the rescue team did. The same person – or people – probably killed the rescue team."

Jaeger frowned, but his curiosity about the strange fortress overpowered his dismay. "Tell me about this building. This is new information to us."

Fox looked uneasily at Slippy, then replied, "It looked like a large lab of some kind. We tried to find out what it was used for, but all the systems inside it had already been destroyed before we got there. They didn't leave anything for us to look into."

Slippy smirked.

"I see," Jaeger sighed. "I'll have to send more people up to take a look at it, but then again, I'm not sure I want to risk more of my men. We're badly short-staffed as it is."

Fox gave his head a subtle shake. "I wouldn't waste your time. There's really nothing to see."

"But what would that dead guy be doing up there if there wasn't?"

"Your guess is as good as mine," Fox replied.

Once again, the lupine sighed. "Oh well, I guess we just have to move on. Thanks for taking a look for us, Fox. I really appreciate it. I'll forward the money to your account tomorrow after I get it cleared. Thank you for being willing to do this."

"It's not a problem," said Fox, extending his hand.

Jaeger returned his gesture, then turned around and began walking back to the terminal. Around the same time, James hobbled up to the group, the snow alighting on his long coat and rusty, gray-tinged fur. He looked over his shoulder to make sure Jaeger was out of earshot, then spoke to Fox. "I know you didn't tell him the whole story. I can tell that you found something important. What was it?"

Fox exhaled, creating a cloud of condensation that filled the wintry air. "We found Andross's secret research facility. The distress signal was coming from one of his old assistants named Desmond Moon, who went back to the base to destroy all of Andross's old research so that he couldn't access it again. We found his body in the building. He was shot to death by some security robots that Andross left behind. We also found a recorded message from Desmond asking that we finish his work for him by destroying all of Andross's work."

"Did you follow through with it?" asked James, his voice becoming somewhat condescending.

"Yeah, we did. I felt it was the right thing to do."

"Nads," James scowled. "You could have at least taken a few of the 'better' documents with you. You know?"

Rena did an internal fist pump and fought to resist the urge to give Fox's father a high five – which would have ended badly, as the arm closest to her was the one with a crutch under it.

"It was a decision of honor, Dad," Fox explained. "I wanted to take a few with us, but Desmond asked that we simply destroy them without taking the time to find out what they were for."

Shaking his head, the elder vulpine murmured, "You've got more integrity than I would have if I had been in that situation. My metaphorical hat's off to you right now."

"Thanks, Dad," Fox replied. "Let's get back to Corneria. After everything we've had to deal with recently, I think we all deserve a break." He paused. "Also, I'm interested in checking out that airplane yard you told me about. You think they'll have something that I can replace the _Great Fox_ with and lower my monthly payment?"

"Of course. But if you want to check it out, you _have_ to bring Uncle Peppy with you. That's an order. Well, not really. I can't order you around since it's ultimately your choice. I guess what I'm saying is that you _really_ want to make sure he comes along."

Fox raised an eyebrow. "Um, why is that?"

"Because he's the greatest haggler I've ever seen. He never pays the full price for anything."

"Anything?"

"Anything," James affirmed. "I've seen him hold up entire lines at the grocery store haggling over toothpaste until the manager caved to him."

Fox looked off to the side and let out a quiet whistle. "All right, then… I'll make sure he comes with us."

* * *

 _-_ § _-_

* * *

Having dropped off Miyu, Slippy, Rena, and Scarlet at his team's headquarters in downtown Corneria City, Fox guided the _Great Fox_ towards the distant runway belonging to the Cornerian Military Airplane Yard, a sprawling hodgepodge of planes and helicopters that ran the gamut from mildly used, fully functioning vehicles to ancient war relics that were too worn out to be placed in museums. From the air above the dust-colored ground that made up the yard, Fox noticed the numerous cannibalized fuselages that lay on the outer edges of the property near the electrified chain-link fence. Two mobile homes acted as the yard's offices. Altogether, the yard looked fair at best and sketchy at worst.

As the _Great Fox_ neared the long, dust-covered runway on the north end of the yard, a corpulent voice slithered its way through the cockpit speakers. "Uh, this is CM Yard control to approaching aircraft – state your purpose for landing."

"I called earlier about selling an Antira C-245 to you guys. I need to land it and have it checked to see how much it's worth."

"Oh, that's right. You must be Fox McCloud," the controller grunted. "Alrighty then, just land your bird and our guys will come out and take a look at it. While you wait, you can check the wares, if you're into that kind of thing. You are cleared to land."

"Thanks," Fox replied, closing his comms channel.

With his external communications turned off, Fox looked at his father in the co-pilot's chair and commented, "This place looks like a dump. I'm not sure this was a good idea."

The older fox waved his son off. "Nah, it just looks like that. Believe it or not, but these guys are known for paying out above market value for newer planes like yours. They're in high demand, you see."

"Fair enough," Fox relented. "But are we going to be able to find anything good here?"

James shrugged. "Maybe, maybe not. Sometimes they get some real gems in here, though. Like that thing down there. Wait a minute – that shouldn't be there."

Fox took his eyes off the approaching runway for a moment and stared at the black airplane that James was pointing at. The aircraft looked like a flying wing – not nearly as large as the _Great Fox_ by any stretch, but large enough to transport him and his team from location to location. If the sleek, edgy design was any indication, it looked like it also featured stealth capabilities.

"What is that thing?"

Excitement in his voice, James replied, "Fox, if that thing is for sale, you _have_ to buy it."

"Why?" Fox demanded, giving his father a frustrated look.

"While I was in the army, I saw a few prototypes of that airplane. It's called the YCS-02 'Vesper', and it's the pinnacle of Cornerian aircraft technology. VTOL operation, stealth capabilities, a fuel-saving long-range cruise mode, and to top it off, a built-in sandwich maker like the kind restaurants have _."_

"Now _that's_ a game changer," Fox exclaimed. "How much do they go for new?"

James paused, scratching his muzzle. "Hmm…about two billion."

Fox felt the blood drain straight out of his face. " _Billion?_ With a B?"

"Technology like that doesn't come cheap, I'm afraid. But Fox, if you can swing it, you've _got_ to try to make it happen."

Fox looked back at James with narrowed eyes. "In that case, we'll have to find out how good of a negotiator Peppy is."

"Indeed we will. He'll be arriving at the main gate any minute now."

Fox nodded. "All right. After we land, let's go straight over to the Vesper and see what the catch is."

* * *

 _-_ § _-_

* * *

With the _Great Fox_ parked at the end of the airplane yard's obscenely long runway, Fox and James walked among the hundreds upon hundreds of gutted airplanes, antiquated relics, and the occasional working aircraft that made up the majority of the yard. Taking a look back at his hulking transport plane, he watched the raggedly-dressed yard workers milling around it, attempting to pin down its value for the impending sale.

From the air, the yard looked rough; but on the ground, it looked like a scene from the apocalypse – and the people who worked there looked like the kind of people who would survive it. In some ways, they barely even looked like fully sapient beings. Their words came out in a garbled mix of languages that only they could understand, and their clothes hung on them in disrepair, marred by countless oil and rust stains from working on the yard.

Up ahead sat the experimental transport plane, covered in a thin layer of dust that matched the sandy ground that Fox and James's feet crunched over. Compared to the piles of rusting, corroding metal around them, the Vesper stood out like an angel among mortal men. It looked like it could have rolled out of the factory a week ago; and as he stepped to within thirty feet of it, James wondered if that actually was the case. It occupied only half the space that the _Great Fox_ did, but considering that the _Great Fox_ was one of the largest cargo planes ever built, that was not saying much.

Just then, Fox looked to his left and saw a solitary figure lumbering towards them along the sandy pathway wedged between empty airline fuselages. Two floppy ears stuck out from his head. He wore a loose-fitting red button-down shirt with a yellow floral pattern and a pair of khaki shorts that would have looked more in place at the beach than an airplane graveyard. As he drew closer, his bucked teeth poked out from his lips.

"Uncle Peppy," James announced.

Upon seeing his friend, the hare jogged towards him; although said jog looked more like a running stumble. "Jamesy Boy! Fox! Good to see you two. I heard you needed my negotiating skills." His voice lacked class and made him sound like he had never left the rural part of Corneria that he had been born in, even though he maintained a home in Corneria City.

"Yeah, we're going to need them all right," James replied, pointing to the Vesper. "This beauty here costs C2,000,000,000 new, and Fox needs it for his unit. Do you think you're up for this?"

Peppy narrowed his eyes and cracked his knuckles. "You'd better believe I am. Where's the sales office?"

James turned around and looked for the nearest building. He saw the two mobiles near the top of a distant hill, but two hundred feet down the sandy road, an overweight pig waddled towards him. Even from the distance, James could see his enthusiasm about possibly selling an aircraft to the group. Standing next to James, Peppy narrowed his eyes and glared at the pig as if his approach was a challenge.

"Hey Peppy," Fox spoke up, "I'm buying this in the end, but I'm going to leave it up to you to make the deal. Is that okay?"

The hare nodded, causing his ears to bounce. "You got it, sonny."

Fox rolled his eyes at being called 'sonny'. For as long as he could remember, Peppy functioned as an awkward non-relative who acted too much like an overbearing uncle – hence the name 'Uncle Peppy'. Nevertheless, he and James had been close friends for several decades after being stationed in the same base during Corneria's last major war. Both had the same age – 49 – were widowers with one child each, and despite Peppy's tendency to say the wrong thing at precisely the wrong time, they managed to get along almost like brothers who never were.

The pig approached the group, wearing a khaki button-down with short sleeves, a loose-fitting pair of jeans, and a red and gray mesh trucker hat. A sewn-on name tag on his chest read 'Pigma Dengar, Sales Manager.' He spoke in a sloppy voice that matched his greasy clothing. "Well, hullo there! What can I do ya for?"

While Fox cringed, Peppy took a step towards the porcine and pointed to the Vesper. "I was hopin' that you could give me and my friends here a special deal on this piece of junk."

"The T-401 there?" Pigma chuckled, laughing in such a way that the fat under his lip jiggled. "We just got that thing in here yesterday."

Fox's heartbeat almost stopped. The salesperson had the wrong information, but Peppy did not know that.

"Yeah – well, I'm interested in making a trade," Peppy explained. He pointed towards the _Great Fox_ on the runway a quarter mile away. "See that thing?"

Pigma's eyes went wide at the sight of the huge transport, and Peppy swore that he saw money signs in them for a split second. "Oh hell yeah! Now _that's_ a beauty. We might be able to work something out here. Follow me up to the office…actually, forgot that. I ain't gonna walk back up there. Hang on just a sec." Looking around the immediate area, Pigma waddled towards an outcropping created by three airplane nose cones. He disappeared behind them, but two seconds later, the clattering of a worn-out petrol motor echoed into the yard. Pigma reappeared in a decrepit golf cart with two rows of bench seating and a broken rear suspension. A much newer looking stereo system had been jerry-rigged into the front of the dashboard, and the sounds of a vapid pop country hit blared out of the tiny speakers mounted next to the steering wheel. Then, the song ended and another one began. It sounded no different.

"All aboard!" Pigma grunted, motioning for the two foxes and the hare to take their respective seats in the golf cart. As the negotiator, Peppy hopped onto the front seat next to Pigma, leaving the rear bench for Fox and James. When their combined weight pressed down on the golf cart's suspension, the rear bumper touched the ground. Ignoring the dragging plastic, Pigma floored the gas pedal and accelerated up the long hill leading to the sales office. Once at the top, he parked the golf cart next to the office's metal door and turned off the engine. The rear bumper fell off.

Pigma extricated himself from the cart and opened the office door to reveal a shabby office filled with old furniture and piles of paperwork. On top of that, the room smelled like wet corn chips mixed with half-eaten beef jerky left to air out for three days. Needless to say, it smelled abysmal. Peppy, James, and Fox dropped into the three seats in front of Pigma's desk while he attempted to make himself comfortable in his old cloth office chair that created a 'poof' of dust when he sat on it.

Once he was situated in his chair, he directed his attention to his computer screen and clicked the mouse. His fat fingers maneuvered across the keys faster than anyone would have expected, and soon, he had pulled up the file on the Vesper. When the airplane's image appeared on the screen, he rotated the monitor towards his customers, knocking a small, potted cactus off his desk. The cheap porcelain pot smashed against the floor and shattered.

"Aw shucks," he grunted before shaking it off and pointing to the aircraft's file on the screen. "All right – here's the T-401 right here. It's so new that we haven't even put it online yet. It could be your lucky day. Let me see…right now, the asking price is C220,000,000. Let me run that through my finance calculator."

Fox opened his mouth, intending to blurt out, "I'll take it!" but Peppy beat him to the punch, much to his horror. With narrowed eyes, the older hare replied, "No deal. I'm not gonna pay more than C200,000,000."

Pigma sneered. "Ha ha…you think you're gonna get me to go for _that_ price? Dream on, bunny rabbit."

A tearful sniffle escaped Peppy's nose, and his ears drooped. For a moment, both Fox and James wondered if he had been legitimately brought to tears, but both realized that it was all part of a ploy to extract sympathy from the porcine salesman. With quivering hands, Peppy reached into his pocket and pulled out a small medal with a purple heart emblazoned on it. "This medal was given to me by General Akita for my service in Zoness during the War for Independence. I got shot out of my plane and broke my arm, and I spend the next week trying to hide from enemy forces while living off the land, eating mostly grass. Could you find it in your heart to do something nice for an old vet like me?"

Pigma rolled his eyes and looked away from the group. "Fine," he replied with a growl. "I'll lower it to 215,000,000."

"205,000,000!" Peppy fired back.

"210,000,000 – and that's final!"

Peppy looked over at Fox and nodded. "I'll take it."

A smile appeared on Pigma's face. "Alrighty, then. Let me see your papers for the plane you're trading in, and I'll let you know how much it's worth."

On cue, Fox reached into the bag on his shoulder, pulled out a thick stack of papers pertaining to the _Great Fox_ , and placed it on Pigma's desk where the fake plant had previously been. Pigma's greasy fingers descended upon the paperwork. Sorting through the files, he began nodding his head in approval. For the most part, he spent less than a full second looking at any of the papers, but their sheer number and neat organization convinced him that the plane had been properly maintained and used. After a brief pause, he set the papers down and said, "It looks like I'll be able to give you an even trade. Please, no more haggling."

"We'll take the offer," Fox replied. "What else do I need to do here?"

Pigma pointed to a one-inch thick stack of papers to his right and answered, "I need you to sign all of those."

* * *

 _-_ § _-_

* * *

An eternity later, Fox signed his name on the last of the ownership papers for the incorrectly-labeled T-401 and stood up from his seat. Pigma did the same, although his obese frame conspired to keep him seated. Reaching out his slimy hand, he shook Fox's and said, "She's as good as yours. The manual is inside. Good luck figuring out how to use it, 'cause I sure don't." He chortled, causing his flabby gut to jiggle.

"Thank you," Fox replied before walking to the exit door with James and Peppy in tow. The instant all three had left the building, Fox shut the door and vigorously wiped his hands on his clothes. Then, he looked downhill towards the parked Vesper and broke into a smile. "I can't believe the deal I got on that thing," he told Peppy. "Man, you really are as good as my dad said you were."

Peppy did a short bow to express his gratitude, but James's attitude did not reflect the same level of enthusiasm. "Fox, you _do_ know that there was a serious mix-up with that plane, right? We need to get that thing started and get it out of here as soon as possible, or Pigma will probably make us give it back."

Fox looked over his shoulder at the closed office door. "I was thinking the same thing. Let's move."

Back inside the building, Pigma leaned back in his office chair and reached into a nearby bag of cheese puffs, cramming them into his greedy mouth and then wiping the yellow residue on his shirt. With his short binge complete, he shoved the bag of snacks into one of the drawers in his desk and looked out the window at the distant sunset. His eyes alighted on the digital clock next to his computer. 4:52. Only eight more minutes until he could go home to unleash his mad gaming skills upon Call of the Battlefield.

A grin formed on his snout as the thought of tearing through other less initiated gamers passed through his mind. With no other potential customers on the lot, he figured that he could start to close down the office a few minutes early. He shuffled in his chair and prepared to stand up, but at the worst possible moment, his office phone rang.

He let out a loud grunt of frustration and picked it up. "Hello? This is CM Yard, Pigma speaking."

A stone-cold, grim voice sent chills down his spine through the phone's speakers. _"Good evening, 'Pigma'. This is Colonel Williard of the Cornerian Air Force. We have an extremely urgent issue on our hands – somehow, a classified stealth transport plane with VTOL, stealth, and cloaking abilities was accidentally sent to your yard instead of an old T-401 that needed a new avionics package. Our records show that it arrived yesterday. We need that plane back ASAP. Put a lock on it in your system and make sure that everyone who visits the yard knows that it's off limits. By no means are you to sell…"_

Pigma hung up and bolted for the door, but his wide girth resulted in his chair coming with him when he stood up. Disregarding the chair stuck to his backside, he barged through the office door and slammed it open. The chair's wheels caught in the doorway and separated it from Pigma's behind, but it did little to help him run faster. Fueled by cheese puffs, he stormed down the dusty road towards the Vesper, waving his stubby arms about and yelling "No! Don't leave!"

At that moment, Fox found himself sitting in the Vesper's pilot's seat, priming the ignition. James occupied the co-pilot's chair, while Peppy hovered behind them. Through the narrow cockpit windows, all three focused their eyes on Pigma barreling towards them, spare tire swinging from side to side as he ran. Then, suddenly, he tripped on a protruding wing segment from a discarded airplane and face planted into a set of landing gear. The trucker hat atop his head flew off and did a complete flip, landing upside down and covering his eyes. The impact knocked him out cold.

Wasting no time, Fox ignited the Vesper's engines and located the VTOL controls, then ascended into the air above the airplane yard. After he switched to the plane's forward flight mode, he looked at his father and asked, "Do you think the Cornerian Army is going to make us give this thing back?"

James looked through the folder pertaining to the Vesper's sale and shook his head. "If I'm reading these correctly, you are now the official owner of this airplane. But hey – if they make you give it back, you can probably make them pay you for the _real_ value."

A smile crossed Fox's lips. "Finally, something actually goes _right_ for me. Now to take it back to my HQ and start my vacation."

"And a well-deserved one, too," James replied. "Do you have anything planned?"

Fox looked back at his father, a devious glint in his eye. "You're not going to believe this, but I asked Scarlet out to dinner tonight."

Slack-jawed, James stared at Fox and gasped, "Really? You did? Where are you going to go?"

"Um…Bradshaw's Wings & Sports," Fox sheepishly replied. When James gave him a disbelieving look, he explained, "Hey – I couldn't go anywhere nice because she won't wear a dress. I'm sure it'll be great, anyway. We're going to see a movie afterwards."

"Oh really? Which one?"

" _Phantom Chainsaw VI_. Not my idea," Fox answered. "I guess she's really into horror movies."

"Wow, that is _so_ romantic," James joked.

Behind them in the transport's crew area, Peppy raised his voice in glee and shouted, "Hot damn! You two _have_ to check out this sandwich maker! It's…the bomb!"

James buried his face in his palm.

* * *

 _AUTHOR'S NOTE(S):  
_

 _Realism be damned! I hope none of you actually thought that's how a person trades in an airplane. I'll admit that I laughed more while writing this chapter than I have in a long time. That might also explain how I wrote it so quickly.  
_

 _The airplane yard was actually based on a real life scrapyard that I have had the misfortune of driving into on one or two occasions. If you go there, you've got about a 50/50 shot of driving over a nail and blowing out one of your tires. It's pretty nasty._

 ** _Okay, I need your opinion:_**

 _Should I write Fox and Scarlet's date or just have it be referenced later in the story and skip straight to the next 'action' arc? Or should I post a separate short story about it? Let me know. I don't really have a preference. I want to do whatever you want me to do here.  
_


	20. The One Where Fox Goes to His Base

**Arc V: Executive Protection**

 _Part 1: The One Where Fox Goes to His Base_

After surviving Northpoint, traveling to Aquas to emancipate Slippy, getting tied up with Wolf's PMC in Katina, enduring Fara's awful funeral in Warton, reuniting with his father and Rena in West Fortuna, and then finally investigating Andross's northern fortress in Fichina, taking a few days off from his work was all but a must for Fox. He spent his first evening off by taking Scarlet out to dinner and a movie. Although almost every aspect of his night out with her went wrong, it ended on a high note.

Having finally released their feelings for each other, Fox and Scarlet chose to turn their night of passion into a closer relationship than they had shared before. Neither of them felt ready to commit to anything long term, but for the moment, most of Fox's friends and associates would have considered him and Scarlet an item.

At the moment, on their third day off, both foxes lounged under a large umbrella on Corneria City's nearby beach. Despite the teeming throngs of people milling about, surfing, playing in the waves, or simply sunbathing, Fox did not feel overwhelmed. Seated on a beach towel, he held Scarlet on his lap, feathering her abdominal fur while listening to the sound of the waves and the seagulls overhead. Scarlet looked at the waves and the numerous surfers attempting to ride them and asked, "Have you ever tried that?"

"What? Surfing?"

"Yeah. It looks fun."

Fox gave the vixen a gentle squeeze and spoke into her ear. "I used to do it a lot during summer break in high school. I could teach you if you want. There is a learning curve, though."

"Oh, I'm sure," Scarlet replied. "I think it would be worth it, though. When can we start?"

Fox cracked a smile. "Your impulsiveness never ceases to amaze me. We can come back tomorrow if you'd like. I can take you to the part of the beach where I learned to surf. There aren't as many people there, either."

"I think I'd like that. But first things first, do you have any ideas for this afternoon?"

"Nothing," Fox answered. "And I'm guessing this is the part where you suggest we head back to your apartment and bone each other."

Scarlet giggled. "Clever fox. Am I that easy to read?"

"Painfully easy," Fox replied, rolling his eyes. "Sorry to say it, but I think I'm sexed out for now."

A tinge of frustration colored Scarlet's voice. "Is there something wrong with you?"

"I'm sure there is because after two nights ago, I've had to walk with a limp. Maybe you should go a bit easier next time."

"Fine," Scarlet sighed. "I won't bring out the whip next time."

Fox rolled his eyes again, then flinched when he felt a vibration in his pocket. Gently pushing Scarlet off of his lap, he reached into his swim trunks and pulled out his phone. A picture of a crow with his team's combat gear appeared on the screen with the name 'Edgar Lee' above it. Edgar functioned as his unit's home base operator in his absence. He also took the team's incoming calls when Fox was not available.

Knowing that he would not have been called if the situation was not important enough, Fox answered the call and thought, _"Someone in the military probably wants me to give my new plane back."_

"Hello? Edgar?"

The avian responded with a grave, cold voice typical of him. "Hello, Boss. I have someone on the line who wants to talk to you. He says it's for you and you alone."

Fox frowned. The last thing he wanted while enjoying his time off was for someone else to contact him with a job offer. After a brief pause, he decided to let the caller's identity determine if the job was worth pursuing. "Edgar, who is this person?"

"General Raven O'Donoghue."

Fox's ears perked up. "Okay. Patch him in."

"As you wish," Edgar replied.

A moment later, the thundering, powerful voice of the raven general reached Fox's ears. "Good afternoon, Fox. I have a proposal for you specifically, and I intend for you to accept it."

Under most circumstances, Fox would have scoffed at anyone who approached him with an attitude such as that, but General O'Donoghue's authoritarian presence made him consider otherwise. Even though General Pepper technically ranked higher than he did, O'Donoghue inspired more fear – and sometimes more respect – than the old hound dog.

Feeling unnerved by the general's forwardness, Fox asked, "What do you have for me?"

"As you might have known, Titania is holding its presidential election this year," O'Donoghue began. "The results of this election could have a profound effect on our relations with Titania. At the moment, the incumbent – President Iris Vinca – is projected to carry the vote and win handily over her competitor, Sergio de la Rio, but there are several enormous unknowns that go along with this."

"I don't see where you're going with this," Fox replied. "What does this have to do with your relations with Titania?"

"Simple – President Vinca is a staunch supporter of the COMMERCE trade deal that includes Corneria, West Fortuna, and Zoness. Because of the way the trade deal is structured, it plays to Titania's advantage to cooperate with us both economically and diplomatically. The issue with the election is that her rival opposes COMMERCE in favor of pro-Macbeth policies that could give Macbeth the boost they need at a time when they've come under fire for helping the East Fortunan rebel forces. If de la Rio wins this election – and by extension creates an economic deal with Macbeth — it is possible that the effects of any embargos or sanctions that Corneria places on Macbeth would be lessened, thereby allowing them to continue providing aid to the EFR forces without the risk of them running their finances into the ground. The polls won't be open for another month, but if we can't end the uprising in East Fortuna before de la Rio takes office – assuming he wins — the war will deepen into one of attrition."

Fox took a deep breath and looked at the sand next to him. He rather enjoyed being away from this sort of thing for a change, yet forces beyond his control had already conspired to drag him back into it. "So, where do I come in? And better yet, what does COMMERCE stand for?"

" **C** harter **o** f **M** oving **M** aterials **E** verywhere **R** apidly, **C** heaply, and **E** fficiently."

"Wow, you guys have an acronym for everything," Fox snickered. "Anyway, what do you need me for?"

General O'Donoghue answered, "I was contacted last night by the head of President Vinca's security detail. He expressed extreme concern about security risks in the venue that she will be hosting a rally in three days from now. Several attempts have already been made on her life; and the layout of the venue creates a real problem for security. There are far too many places where an assassin could be planted. He has tried to convince President Vinca to cancel the rally or move it to another time and location, but it seems that she has a bull-headed streak going and refuses to change her plans. Something about showing strength under fire and defying her enemies."

"So," he continued, "I cleared your unit and another mercenary outfit for security work during the rally on top of what the Titanian secret service is already going to provide. This was discussed with the Titanians beforehand, and they approve of the plan."

Fox grumbled. "With all due respect, sir, why do you need us to do security work there? Can't the Titanians handle it themselves?"

"I would hope so," the general replied, "But it can't hurt anything. There is one catch, though."

"Um, what's that?"

"As not to spook the people at the rally, you will need to wear civilian clothes. Concealed weapons only. The amount of security at the rally will be extreme, but the event organizers don't want the general public to know that."

Fox nodded faintly. "Sounds reasonable. However, if you want me and my team to fly to Titania for this, I'm going to need a few things, like lodging, transportation, etcetera."

"I have arranged for all of them, not to mention airfare for you and your team. So, that means that you won't have to fly all the way to Titania _in the plane_ _you stole from us._ Oh yes – don't act like we don't know what you did. We need that prototype back, by the way. If you comply within seven days, we'll order the salvage yard you bought it from to pay you back. If you do nothing, we'll take it from you by force. Your choice."

" _Shit,"_ Fox muttered under his breath. "Will do, sir. What's the next step for Titania?"

"I'm having my secretary forward the information to you. When you get it, it'll tell you everything you need to know about the mission. Even though it's not going to be brought up, you and your team will be representing our country there in a way. Do _not_ disappoint."

"Yes, sir," Fox replied before he closed the call and thought about his team representing the nation of Corneria. And by team, he meant Rena. He distinctly loathed the idea of the yellow vixen officially representing anything other than her own interests, none of which appealed to him. Well, none except for her taste in music, to a _very_ limited degree.

Sliding his phone back into his swim trunks, he looked at Scarlet, who had rolled onto her side with her tail sweeping the sand to the right of the beach towel. However, her disappointed expression worried him. "So, you're heading to Titania, huh?" she grumbled.

" _I'm_ heading to Titania? What do you mean by that?" Fox replied, frustration in his voice.

Scarlet pushed herself off the ground and sat up next to Fox. "I'm sorry to say it, Fox, but I can't go with you." The vulpine gave her a stupefied look, but before he could speak, she explained, "I won't go into all the details, but the president of Titania has had some dealings with the local mob, which I happen to have pissed off a few years back. So, for obvious reasons, I can't come with you to Titania. I'm really sorry."

"Scarlet, that doesn't sound like you," Fox protested. "You're supposed to go in with one hand on the trigger and the other with an upraised middle finger. Who cares what the mob wants? As long as we watch our step and stick together as a team, we'll be fine."

To Fox's disappointment, Scarlet shook her head. "I don't think you understand the real danger that I'll put us in if I go with you. The Titanian mob doesn't screw around. Trust me – if _I_ can be convinced to stay away, that's a sign that you should be concerned."

"Are you absolutely sure you can't come?" Fox pleaded.

"Sorry, Fox. Not going to happen. "

For half a minute, Fox stared at the sand next to his beach towel. Even though Scarlet still could not be considered an official member of Foxfire Enterprises, she seemed like one to him. He understood that he could not force her to tag along with him, no matter how much he wanted her to come to Titania with his team. "Take care of yourself here then, I guess," he muttered.

After General O'Donoghue's phone call, the mood at the beach for Fox and Scarlet deflated. Disappointed, they packed up their belongings and departed from the beach. Scarlet returned to her apartment, while Fox changed into his team's military uniform and drove to the large building where he kept his company's headquarters.

He parked his truck in the small front parking lot and looked at the building in front of him. At first glance, it looked like a glorified warehouse; but inside, its hallways bristled with crew quarters for team members who lived outside Corneria City, a large shooting range, a gym, a force-on-force combat training area, a flight simulator, a kitchen, a lap pool, and locker rooms for both sexes. Judging from the amount of equipment in the building, one would have thought that Fox's unit was significantly larger than it was.

Holding up his electronic key to the scanner to the right of the front door, he waited for the device to chime and let him in. As he stepped inside, he looked over his shoulder and noticed the other cars in the parking lot. In particular, an old, red truck near the back of the parking lot stood out to him.

" _My dad's here. That's interesting."_

Fifty feet down the hallway to the left stood a receptionist's kiosk. Two people – a sullen, slender crow and a white-furred leopardess sat behind a duo of computer screens. The crow wore a solid black pair of Foxfire's official fatigues, while his counterpart wore a slinky purple bodysuit that drew too many comparisons to Scarlet's attire. Neither of them seemed to notice Fox until he approached the kiosk and slapped his hands on the counter in front of the crow.

"By Jove!" the avian shouted, rolling backwards and windmilling his arms. The leopardess turned and giggled at him, while Fox grinned and let out a quiet laugh of his own.

"Sorry, Edgar – I couldn't help it."

"Damn and blast!" he retorted, "Don't do that to me while I'm working!

"My bad. It's been a little while since I saw you two. How's your cousin Annabelle doing?"

Edgar lowered his beak; and in a dark, brooding voice, he answered, "As mortally ill as ever. I fear that only a few more weeks separate her from the grim embrace of death. 'Tis such a tragedy. When she passes, I shall lie down in her sepulcher and weep for my lovely rose that cruel fate plucked from this life before her time."

Fox's eyes widened. "Um…yeah. Go do that. You know, it's kind of creepy that you're _that_ into your cousin."

Edgar said nothing, leaving room for the white leopardess to comment, "Don't be so hard on him. You never know – she could be really hot, like…volcano hot. Don't tell me that if you had hot cousins you wouldn't want to get it on with them."

"As a matter of fact, I have several hot cousins," Fox stated. "I'm not interested in any of them."

"What about your third cousin?" the leopardess smirked.

"She doesn't count," Fox blushed, looking for an opportunity to change the subject. "You know, Taiga, I don't think that catsuit is part of the official Foxfire Enterprises clothing list."

Taiga rotated her swivel chair in Fox's direction and pointed to her chest, where she had pinned a copper name tag that read, 'Taiga Michaels, Accounting & AR (Animal Resources).' With a confident smile, she said, "I've got a name tag. I think that's good enough."

Rolling his eyes, Fox replied, "I've already got one person in my life who's into fetish clothing. I don't need another. Where did you even get that thing?"

"I got it online from a designer named Emma Altruis. You know, she makes them for guys, too. Even if you only wear them under your clothes, they're great. Soooo comfortable."

"They're also soooo not part of the official uniform," Fox replied. "Please – I respect your decision to be you, but we've got to keep a semblance of professionalism in this business."

Taiga frowned. "What about your little weeaboo, then?"

A sigh escaped Fox's lips. Rena was always the one sore spot when it came to falling in line with his company's standards. Come to think of it, her blatant refusal to follow 'arbitrary' codes or ideals may have explained how she had come into Fox's employment to begin with – because no one else would hire her for any significant amount of time. She refused to take IQ tests, believing them to be 'a stupid set of bubbles that puts labels on people,' but Fox and everyone else in his company recognized that if she had possessed at least a passable set of social skills, she would be in a far more illustrious position on account of her mental abilities.

"Look," said Fox, "Rena is one of those people who operates with a few strings attached. I wish she'd grow up and buckle down like everyone else, but I'd be stupid to think that's actually going to happen. Her skills are an enormous help to this company, which is why I choose to put up with her ridiculous clothes, her rebellious attitude, and her blasting anime movies through the rec room sound system at all hours of the night."

"Er…um…that wasn't entirely her idea," Taiga whimpered. "We got stuck binge watching _Three Punch Man_ and couldn't stop until the season was over."

Fox raised an eyebrow. " _Three Punch Man_? What's that?"

"You've never heard of it?" Taiga gasped, rolling her chair backwards out of shock.

"Um, no? What's it about?"

A light in her eyes, Taiga explained, "It's a show about this guy who can take out _anyone_ with only three punches. It's soooo good! You have to watch it!"

"Why three punches, though? Wouldn't one punch be better?"

"Yes, it would – but that would make this a direct reference, not an allusion."

Somewhere nearby, a light bulb shattered. Suddenly, Slippy exploded through the wall to Fox's left and emerged in the hallway, covered in plaster and white dust. Eyes wide, he yelled, "Woooooaaaah! Fourth wall break!"

Edgar, Taiga, and Fox turned towards the amphibian. "Oh, hi there, Slippy," said Fox, ending the awkward silence. "What have you been up to?"

Slippy dusted off his green jacket and elaborated on his recent endeavors. "Well, I looked over the new plane and tried out the sandwich maker. "It was…" He threw his hands up, and in a feminine operatic voice, declared, "Glorious!"

He continued, "Oh, and I also took apart the VTOL system and analyzed it; then I created a file that explains how it works and how it could be improved."

For a moment, the only sound in the hallway belonged to a solitary fly. That is, until Edgar slid a flyswatter out of his desk and spanked it into oblivion with the same solemn lack of emotion that defined almost everything he did.

Turning his attention back to Slippy, Fox worriedly asked, "You put the VTOL back together again, right?"

"Yeah?" Slippy replied. "Did you want to use it?"

"Not exactly. Apparently, that plane is a military prototype, and the Air Force wants it back. If I take it back within a week, they'll refund my money, but if not…well, you get the idea."

Slippy's expression intensified. "Do you think they'd notice if their plane came back without the sandwich maker?"

"Well, I dunno. It's just a sandwich maker, right? Really though, how good is it?"

The only response Slippy gave was a spasm-esque flurry of head bobs.

"Ooh. Well, in that case, make sure you take it out and put it in the kitchen here."

"I'm on it!" Slippy announced, speeding through the hole in the wall that he had created a minute earlier.

With the mechanic out of earshot, Fox lowered his head and admitted, "You know, I was going to give him a raise for copying the VTOL schematics, but I think that money's going to go towards fixing that wall instead." Looking at Taiga, he asked, "Who else is here today?"

Taiga jogged her memory and answered, "Rena's been here ever since you got back from Fichina, Miyu came in this morning to work out, and your dad checked in a half hour ago with some old rabbit who said he was your uncle."

"Dammit – he's not supposed to bring guests without my approval," Fox huffed. "Why did you let them through?"

Taiga's feline face flushed red. "Um…well…your father was very kind when he spoke to me, and…"

Fox rolled his eyes and slammed his palm into his forehead. "Are you telling me that he _seduced_ you?"

"No! Nothing of the sort! But his eyes…oh, those eyes…"

"Unbelievable," Fox muttered, mostly to himself, but loudly enough for Taiga and Edgar to hear him. "What do young women find so attractive about him that makes them want to throw themselves at him? He's almost fifty, for crying out loud. I mean, his girlfriend is what, 22?"

Taiga shrugged her shoulders and tried to avoid making it obvious that the elder vulpine had flattered his way into the base with Uncle Peppy. "If you wanted to see him, he went into the flight simulator room."

"Great. Thanks, Taiga," Fox replied.

Frustrated that his father had the power to wring special favors from his accountant, Fox marched down the hall, stopping when he reached a white door with 'flight simulator' printed on it in black font. He placed his hand on the handle and turned it, opening the door to find James standing next to what looked like a cannibalized aircraft cockpit without the canopy, attached to a g-force-inducing device that leaned and banked the 'aircraft' wherever its pilot took it. A large, wall-mounted screen on the left wall acted as the pilot's point of view.

Speaking of the pilot, Peppy sat in the pilot's seat, gripping the controls as if letting go would result in him being killed. Then again, when Fox looked at the screen and saw that he had selected the 'combat flight simulator' mode, Peppy's mannerisms made more sense to him. Fox squinted in hopes of reading Peppy's current score, which he figured would be low at best. When he failed to make it out, he approached his father and looked at the screen again, only to see a score so astronomically high that he wondered if hax were involved.

Whispering into James's ear, he asked, "How long has he been going at it in here?"

"He's still on the same run that he started with," James answered.

"And I'm just gettin' started!" Peppy announced from the pilot's seat as he reached for a nearby button and fired a missile at one of the uncountable number of enemy targets surrounding his 'fighter.' The weapon hit home, causing the enemy plane to burst into flames and Peppy's score to rise even farther.

Fox's jaw dropped. "You can't be serious! How can you be that good?"

"What? Are you tellin' me you didn't know that I'm the greatest fighter pilot ever to have lived?" Peppy hollered. "Well, technically not, but I would have taken first place all time if General Basset hadn't gotten jealous of me twenty years ago and forced me to retire when I was two kills away from breaking his all time record."

"Which was…?"

"268," Peppy replied with a chortle.

"You can't be serious," Fox deadpanned.

"As serious as the stroke that killed my daddy," Peppy laughed, although Fox's face froze in horror instead of humor.

Moving towards the door, Fox waved at his father and said, "I just wanted to let you know that we're leaving for Titania tomorrow. General O'Donoghue wants us to run security for the President."

James frowned and put his hands on his hips. "Dammit! I had a date with my girlfriend set up for tomorrow evening."

"Too bad," Fox replied. "Remember – just like you said after Northpoint, 'Duty doesn't wait for the date to start.'"

"That's not right – I said that duty doesn't wait for the pain to stop," James protested. While Fox reached for the door handle, he turned to the side and descended into a deep realm of thought. _"Shoot, this mission's already screwed me over big time. Maybe I should have just retired. No, no, no – I did the right thing. I've just got to think of a way to make it up to Mystic. Titania, huh? Maybe I should… Oh – now that's an idea. That should make her happy."_

* * *

 _-_ § _-_

* * *

Leaving James to supervise Peppy's record-shattering combat simulator run, Fox walked farther down the building's main hallway until an adjacent corridor appeared to the left. As he turned into it, the faint sound of abrasive metal music began vibrating through the walls and floor. He looked at the door at the end of the new hallway – Rena's quarters – and sighed. To him, it seemed that apart from her missions with the team, she never left the building. Even more, she tended to avoid contact with other people as much as possible to the point where Fox had become used to her acting as the nocturnal night owl who exercised and trained while everyone else slept. Considering that the afternoon clock had just passed two, Fox figured that she had climbed out of bed less than an hour ago.

The noise from her room increased as Fox neared it to the point that he knew that he would have to practically bash her door in to get her to respond. With this in mind, he first checked to make sure that she had locked it. He grasped her door handle, which to his surprise moved when his hand wrapped around it. Pushing the door open, he felt his auditory sensors being assaulted by the punishing wall of sound coming from her room. At the center of it all was Rena herself, sitting in a cheap office chair in front of her organized desk, playing along to a technical metal song on a hot pink 8-string guitar with yellow polka dots and a kanji on it.

Along with the pummeling, low-tuned riffs and hypnotically complex drumming, the vocalist's monotone screams sounded something like _"I like juice, finish your juice, filtered vitamin substance."_

Seeing Fox standing in her doorway, Rena paused the music and turned to face him with her guitar in her lap. "What do you want this time?"

Fox leaned against her doorway and replied, "We're shipping out to Titania tomorrow. Supposedly General O'Donogue got us plane tickets for the trip, so we don't have to worry about using ours."

Rena slapped her guitar, creating a horrid electrified popping noise. "Oh, that's just wonderful! We'll all get to ride in a pencil-thin tube in the sky with the rejects from 'Xtreme Weight Loss Challenge XII', four or five stupid babies who cry and wet themselves every time the plane hits turbulence, the guy who has too many carry-on bags and crushes yours while trying to fit his triceratops of a handbag into the overhead bin, the disgusting couple who wants to join the 'mile high club', and of course – those annoying farks who want to tell you _all_ about their life's stories and won't leave you alone until the plane is at the gate. Come on, senpai! Tell General O'Donkeyass that we're taking the Vesper."

"Sorry, but we're giving the Vesper back. It seems that our purchase wasn't as 'official' as I had hoped."

Rena curled her lip and narrowed her eyes. "Fight the power, Fox! They may be able to take our freedom, but they'll never take our airplane! Um, wait a minute…"

Chuckling, Fox explained, " Sorry, but we have to give it back. I know – it was awesome while it lasted, even though it only lasted three days."

"Hmph," Rena snorted, looking standoffishly towards her back wall. "Well, I'll have you know that if I get seated next to _any_ of the people that I just mentioned, things…are…going…to…get…ugly. Do you hear me?"

"Yes, I hear you," Fox replied with an eye roll. "Just bring some headphones and tune everyone else out, like you always do." He said the final line with a tinge of sadness in his voice, which did not go unnoticed, as Rena sighed in response and lowered her head.

"Sure. I'll do that. Thanks, senpai."


	21. The One Where They Get on an Airplane

**Arc V: Executive Protection**

 _Part 2: The One Where They Get on an Airplane_

Fox fidgeted in the passenger seat as Scarlet pulled into the Corneria City International Airport and made her way up to the enclosed area that marked the terminal. Tens upon tens of cars darted in and out of the bustling area belonging to Corneria's largest and most crowded airport. Pulling his phone out of his pocket, Fox checked the flight information that General O'Donoghue had given him and looked at the numerous airline signs that dotted the terminal exterior.

"It's Regal Air," he told Scarlet, pointing to a sign near the end of the terminal area. "You know, I never thought I'd say this, but I'm going to miss you."

Scarlet looked back at him, a sincere, melancholic expression on her face. "I'm going to miss you too, Foxie. At least you're not going to be gone for long."

"Yeah, just a few days," Fox replied. "This is probably just going to be a bunch of standing around and watching a canned political speech."

Scarlet continued to close in on the terminal garage for Regal Air. "Well, you might as well make the most of it. How about you bring back something shiny? After all, Titania is the jewel capital of the world. They've got some really nice things for less than you'd expect."

"I'll check it out if I get the chance," said Fox.

A moment later, Scarlet turned into the Regal Air terminal garage and stopped alongside the curb, then climbed out of her car and helped Fox unload his one bag from the trunk. She noticed numerous other people in the garage trying to do the same thing, so when Fox had placed his bag on the curb, she climbed back into her car and drove off – but not before giving Fox a wet goodbye kiss.

As Fox looked around, he spotted Slippy and Rena on the sidewalk fifty feet from him. As usual, Rena wore her trademark black shorts, striped socks, and a band hoodie – in this case, one for Nightmare Cinema. Headphones covered her ears, but her displeased expression and crossed arms made it clear that she failed to understand why Fox had any interest in Scarlet's affections.

Fox walked over to his two teammates and pushed Rena's headphones off of her long, pointy ears, causing the tinny sound of proggy riffs to emanate into the area. Rena huffed and paused her music, then gave Fox an unhappy look and asked, "Do you really have to do that?"

Fox crossed his arms. "Well, since you won't talk to me otherwise, yes. Is anyone else here yet?"

"Apart from me and this giant nerd, no," she replied, glancing at Slippy.

Narrowing his eyes, Slippy snapped, "Hey – you're an even bigger nerd than me! Don't act like I didn't see you writing that Final Ecstasy VII fanfiction that I know you've been working on."

"Hey – at least _I'm_ not the one who literally drools over his League of Warscape skill set," the yellow vixen retorted.

Fox chuckled and crossed his arms. Somehow, he had a feeling that Rena and Slippy would eventually end up being close friends, as unlikely as that may have seemed considering Rena's extreme introversion. A moment later, a compact blue car pulled up to the curb. Miyu climbed out of it, retrieving her luggage from the trunk with the help of a female spaniel with a red bow on one of her floppy ears. After Miyu had secured her single bag, the canine waved goodbye to her and drove off.

"Who was that?" asked Fox.

"Oh, Fay?" Miyu replied, slinging her bag over her shoulder and walking up to her three teammates. "She's an old friend of mine from college. She moved here after she graduated from KUG (Katina University Golstave); and now that I'm in the same city as her*, we were finally able to catch up."

Fox nodded and smiled at her. It didn't last for much longer. In fact, his smile evaporated when his eyes locked onto a distant pair of figures approaching him along the sidewalk inside the covered parking garage. The left of the two people was his father, while the one on the right forced him to rewind to the previous December in order for him to remember her. A youthful, magenta-furred vixen walked alongside James, wearing a pair of tight black jeans and a white long-sleeved turtleneck that seemed to cover almost every inch of fur above her waist. It wasn't the fact that she was half James's age that bothered him as much as it was that both of them were pulling suitcases behind them.

As they neared the group, Fox walked towards his father and asked, "What are you doing?"

"What does it look like? We're getting on the plane with you," James replied before he motioned to the magenta vixen and said, "By the way, this is Mystic. I don't think I've had the chance to introduce her to you yet."

"Pleased to meet you," Mystic cooed, offering her hand for Fox to shake.

Fox reluctantly accepted her gesture before he returned his attention to his father. "Dad, why is she coming with you? You can't bring her."

"Says who? She's not going to be in any danger. I figured that since it fit into her schedule to come to Titania with me, I'd treat her to a romantic vacation." He looked at Mystic and smiled. "Isn't that right, sweetheart?"

"Of course, you handsome devil," the odd-colored vixen replied, draping her arms around James's neck and kissing him.

" _I don't believe this,"_ Fox thought to himself. _"This is ridiculous! How can I maintain any kind of order on this team if crap like this is going to keep happening? Great. I guess I'll just have to be content to have a 'semi-pro' unit, then."_

Collecting himself, Fox looked over his motley assortment of teammates – and Mystic – and muttered, "All right – everyone's here. Let's catch that flight."

The group walked through the terminal doors and entered the vast airport, filled with hundreds of travelers arriving from and departing to all areas of the world. As they sought out the airport security line, Slippy pulled out his ticket slip and asked, "Has everybody figured out where they're going to sit on this flight? My ticket says I'm in seat 23A."

"A window seat—nice," Miyu replied, pulling out her ticket. "Cool, I'm on the same row—23C. Fox, what does yours say?"

"Mine says 23B. Looks like I'm in the middle."

His heart sank at the realization that thanks to the airplane's seating limitations, Rena had been relegated to another seating area, where she would be more likely to end up sitting next to the sort of rabble that she had vented to him about the day before. He looked over his shoulder to ask which seat she had been assigned to, but she beat him to it.

"Fark. 24A. Wonderful. Just farking wonderful."

"Aw, it won't be that bad," Slippy opined, using a borderline mocking tone of voice. "You might make a new friend."

"Shut up, Frogger," Rena snapped. In the forefront of her mind, horrifying images of morbidly obese passengers, screaming infants, and chatty windbags played on repeat to the point that she grew eerily quiet and refused to speak another word to anyone, even after they had cleared the metal detectors and waited for the boarding process to begin.

When that time came, the team stood up from their seats in the Regal Air waiting area and joined the masses of people boarding the airplane. James and his girlfriend trailed the others, since they had arranged for seating in the front part of the airplane away from the rest of the unit. Fox, Miyu, and Slippy walked together through the boarding tunnel, while Rena followed behind them with her head lowered. Fox genuinely feared that she would snap and do something regrettable if a less-than-ideal passenger sat next to her.

After securing their bags in the overhead luggage compartment, Fox, Miyu, and Slippy dropped into their respective seats and looked at Rena as she skulked past them and claimed the window seat in the next row.

Miyu gave Fox a gentle prod with her elbow and whispered into his ear. "No offense, but what's her problem?"

"She's more or less a poorly-adjusted child prodigy who never really grew up," Fox explained in the quietest voice that would allow Miyu to hear him. "I'll be honest – if she had people skills, she'd be an officer in the Cornerian Intelligence Division's cyber-security force without a doubt. Actually, I think she's from Eledard; but you get the idea."

"Huh. Interesting. How long have you known her?"

Fox jogged his memory, staring at the lights above his seat for a moment. "Seven years. She was one of the first people I hired when I was starting my unit. She had just turned eighteen at the time. If you think she's immature now, you have no idea how bad she was back then. But I needed a technical specialist, and she was good at her job."

"Hmm," Miyu mumbled. Then, she shifted uneasily in her seat and asked, "Be honest – how does this unit right now compare to your old one?"

At this, Fox seemed to deflate like a punctured balloon. "I'm sorry to say it, Miyu, but it doesn't. I'm not bashing you; it's just that my old unit was really, _really_ good. Three of us were Advanced Soldier graduates, Fara was pretty good in a fight, and Rena was and is the best martial artist I've ever seen in person. I don't think there was a single field that we weren't capable of working in. Right now, we've got two geeks instead of just one…"

"Nerd poweeerrrr!" Slippy blurted out.

Miyu chuckled before returning her attention to Fox as he continued, "…But we're honestly short on people who are just flat out good soldiers. This is going to sound bad, but my unit right now is me, you, two nerds, my dad—who seems to be using my company to turn his military retirement into a joyride—and a former stripper who might make my team look bad if I formally sign her."

"Sounds like quite a crew," Miyu snickered.

"After all the work I put into my first team, I'm so discouraged right now. I'm halfway tempted to sell all my equipment and join the Cornerian Army. Half of my contracts come from them, anyway."

Miyu's face softened. She placed a hand on his arm and implored him, "Don't do that, Fox. We all love working for you. I haven't been this excited about the future in a long time. This is way better than working for Wolf."

"You really mean that?"

"Of course," Miyu explained. "Slippy thinks the same way. I never saw him as excited as he is now."

Fox crossed his arms and blankly stared into the aisle in the center of the airplane. "That changes things, doesn't it?"

Meanwhile, in the row behind him, Rena huddled against the window, relishing every second that the seats next to her remained unfilled. For minutes on end she sat until finally, a set of footsteps strode down the aisle and stopped on her row. _"Fark."_

As much as she wanted to pretend that her in-flight neighbor did not exist, she looked out of the corner of her eye and hazarded a quick glance at the other passenger. He looked like a canid of some sort—probably a jackal or possibly a dingo. His appearance confused her due to his abnormal fur color. While much of his face possessed a black coloration, his tail bore a shade of deep blue. In terms of his clothing, the dark theme continued with a black hoodie and a pair of black cargo shorts that revealed a faint tinge of blue fur above his knees. On the bridge of his nose between his searing rose-colored eyes, a blue design in the shape of his own skull decorated his natural fur.

At first glance, he seemed like the kind of person not given to talking particularly much, which thrilled Rena more than anything else could have at that moment. Somewhat awkwardly, the canine shuffled into the row of seats and dropped into the one next to Rena. He gave her one quick glance, then leaned back in his seat and zoned out.

Rena breathed a sigh of relief and prepared to cover her ears with her white headphones, but before she could act, the jackal observed her outfit and—in a low, gritty voice—asked, "Are you going to E-Con in Titania?"

Surprise overtook Rena's face. "What? They're having it _there_ this year?"

The jackal nodded. "It's in Abrugarvo, at the Kantark Center."

"Wish I'd known that," Rena muttered under her breath. "What made you think I was going there?"

In response, the black-garbed canine pointed at her and answered, "Your outfit kind of gave it away."

"I wear this every day," Rena retorted. "What about that skull paint on your forehead? Do _you_ always look like that?"

"Yes," said the canid.

Narrowing her eyes, Rena slowly nodded her head. "Huh. Interesting. You got a name?"

"You can call me Lucas. What about you?"

"I'm Rena," Rena answered.

"I know that's not your real name," Lucas prodded. "Either you're from Eladard or you really want to be—which means that your name probably looks more like a fancy doodle than an actual name."

"Is that an insult? I and my culture don't appreciate that."

Still using the same gravely voice, Lucas opened his hands and stated, "Hey – at least they're _pretty_ doodles. So, what's your actual name?"

Rena crossed her arms and grumbled, "Urena Miyoshi. There—are you happy?"

"Yes, I am happy. I'm usually happy. Except I'm not very happy about going to Titania. The weather there around this time of year is murder."

"Ugh—tell me about it," Rena mumbled, rolling her eyes. "Do me a favor and let me know how E-Con turned out if you go there."

Lucas shifted in his seat, appearing somewhat uncomfortable for a moment. "Sadly, I can't go to E-Con. I have other reasons for flying to Titania, and they're a bit more pressing than that."

Rena pursed her lips and cocked her head to the side. "Huh. Well, that sucks. Good luck with whatever you're up to."

"I appreciate it, Lucas replied. After this, he refrained from interacting with Rena any further and seemed to zone out completely, even when the plane taxied down the runway and lifted off the ground. Not as if Rena had any problems with that. While looking out at the sheets of fluffy cumulus clouds surrounding the airplane, she slipped her headphones over her ears and disappeared into a world of sonic madness that only she—and possibly a few other nutcases such as the author—could appreciate.

* * *

 _-_ § _-_

* * *

Following the long flight across the Eastern Ocean to the proverbial 'other side of the world,' Fox and his team touched down at the Abrugarvo International Airport in the center of Titania's largest and most populous city. After over a half hour spent waiting for their specially-labeled box filled with their military gear to clear Titanian customs, the team plodded through the front terminal doors and stepped outside.

The instant the intense Titanian sunlight struck them, every single one of them cringed. The temperature registered at close to a hundred degrees on the imbecilic Fahrenheit scale. While pulling the team's weapon cart through the doors, Fox shook his head and glared at his father, who seemed more interested in cuddling with his youthful girlfriend than helping to move the heavy, wheeled crate.

At that moment, a thought related to his father crossed Fox's mind. "Hey, Dad—I just realized something."

"What is it?" James asked in response.

"General O'Donoghue only booked three rooms for us total, and two of them only have one bed each. That's going to be a problem."

For a moment, James said nothing and instead squeezed Mystic's waist. After planting a kiss on her cheek, he grinned and explained, "That's not going to be a problem. Oh look—our ride's here."

Fox scanned the vast expanse of tan-colored terminal pavement that seemed to reach for over a mile. He had been told to expect an oversized van driven by one of the members of the other mercenary team that had been contracted to assist in the security operation, but at the moment, no such van stood out among the numerous cars that pulled up to the terminal curb and them departed with their passengers.

Instead of a van, a luxurious black car stopped in front of James and Mystic specifically. The print on the side of the car read "The Oasis II – Resort and Spa." The moment the car stopped, James waved to his son as the car's driver climbed out and helped him and Mystic load their bags into the trunk. Then, both foxes slid into the back seat and shut the door behind them.

Fox's mouth hung open in a blank stare of exasperation while the black car pulled away from the curb and rounded the corner at the end of the terminal.

"Did that really just happen?" he asked to no one in particular.

"Well, at least it makes it easier to decide how to split up the hotel rooms now," Miyu suggested.

Fox had to admit that she had a point. "I'm glad I can count on someone to give me a silver lining," he grumbled. "While we're waiting, we might as well decide who sleeps in which room. There are two rooms with one bed and one room with two, so someone's going to have to share a room with someone else."

Rena spoke up. "I call the room with Senpai."

Both Miyu and Slippy raised a pair of eyebrows, although Fox seemed less than surprised considering that among the people she knew, Rena despised Fox the least. Not only that, but thanks to her complete lack of a romantic or sexual interest in him, both she and Fox felt less awkward about sharing a room than most people would have.

"I guess that settles that," said Fox, looking at Miyu. "I was going to have her share a room with you, but it looks like she spared you this time."

"Indeed," Rena smirked.

The conversation ended when a familiar black van rolled up to the curb and stopped with a quiet brake squeak. The right side window rolled down, revealing a muscular husky in the driver's seat. "Come on, Fox—put that crate in the back and get in."

Fox's eyes widened. "Hartmann? What are you doing here? Did the Cornerian Army assign _you_ to this job, too?"

The husky grinned and shook his head. "Nope, but the Secret Service doesn't need to know that."

"Wait…so if you're not on this job with us, why should we go with you? We're waiting for another unit to pick us up."

"Well…" Hartmann paused. "That's probably not going to happen. After all, dead people don't drive cars."

A number of seconds passed before the gist of Hartmann's comment occurred to him. "Hold up—did you kill them?! What the hell?"

"Shh!" Hartmann snapped, holding a finger to his lips. "Just put your stuff in the back and get in. We'll discuss this on the way out."

Fox looked back and forth between Hartmann and his teammates, then pointed at the weapons crate and ordered, "Miyu, Slippy—put the weapons in the back."

Without a word, the two grabbed the crate and hefted it to the back of the van after Fox opened the two rear doors for them. Once it was inside, Fox closed up the back and entered the van along with his teammates. While Slippy, Miyu, and Rena piled into the seat-free cargo area, Fox took the shotgun seat.

Hartmann accelerated away from the terminal while Fox fastened his seatbelt. As the seconds rolled past, the airport gradually became a distant speck in the van's mirrors. After exiting the airport grounds and pulling onto a sprawling interstate, Hartmann glanced at Fox and said, "All right, here's what happened: Xav did some digging and found out that the merc crew that _had_ been assigned to help you guys protect the Titanian President were being bribed to kill her by another party."

"Really? Who was paying them off?"

"That's what we're trying to figure out," Hartmann replied, shaking his head. "However, a few days ago, we got an anonymous tip that brought us here. Well, I guess the tip wasn't entirely anonymous. We don't get many of those; and by this point, we've kind of clued in to who it is that sends them."

"Who?" asked Fox.

"An old teammate. His name's Lucas."

In the back of the van, Rena's eyebrows lifted.

"Anyway," Hartmann continued, "Our source suggested that whether or not he's behind this, Rafa is here, in Abrugarvo. I don't think you need to be told what we want to do here."

"The same thing I want to do," Fox rasped.

"Exactly. Now, there is, unfortunately, one catch to our plan. You see, my team needs to impersonate the team that was supposed to on duty for the presidential rally. Problem is, the team was led by a woman, and it had four members instead of three."

Fox curled the corner of his mouth and replied, "Yeah, that's going to be a problem."

"Fortunately," said Hartmann, "I've figured out a solution to the first problem, and the extra team member might not be much of an issue." He paused and shook his head with a faint grin on his muzzle. "Heh—Xav hates my plan."

For the moment, Fox could only guess as to what the husky's plan entailed. He had a feeling that he would find out the details later, so he avoided pressing him any further and instead looked out the window to his right.

Many of the buildings lining the highways looked to have been built out of a light tan stone-like material that matched the desert sands surrounding Abrugarvo. The roads themselves were anything but smooth, with cracks, patched asphalt, and potholes ever few hundred feet. Vegetation seemed virtually nonexistent save for the occasional palm tree or hardy desert shrub. In the distance, miles ahead of the van, the advanced skyscrapers of the city center loomed over the rest of the metropolis in such a way that they could have been compared to a king and his court looking out over their destitute subjects. That was not to say that the majority of the city looked overly run down—simply that the state-of-the-art pinnacles in the distance looked far more resplendent.

Fox's thoughts turned to the road ahead as Hartmann pulled off the interstate and exited down a steep off-ramp that curved to the left under a highway overpass made of ancient stone. The road led into a quiet, destitute portion of the city that looked sketchy at best and critically unsafe at worst. Virtually all of the buildings sported crumbling stone exteriors plastered with graffiti, and the road leading through the area looked little better.

Fox spoke up. "Hey Hartmann, I don't know where you're going, but we need to get to our hotel."

"Relax, Fox," Hartmann replied with a hand wave. "I'll get you there after we go over the plan in my new base." On cue, he pressed an opener on his sun visor, causing a roll-up door built into one of the crumbling buildings on the right side of the street to open. He pulled the van inside, then closed the door behind him after putting the van in park and shutting it off.

"Here we go again," thought Fox. Following Hartmann's lead, he opened his door and climbed out of the van, as did the rest of his teammates. The interior of the building looked to be a warehouse. It bore a marked resemblance to the Onyx team's hideout in Katina, including a metal lunch table similar to the one whereon Xavier had operated on Krystal's leg. On the left wall was a workbench, where Xavier sat with his laptop opened.

Fox and his team assembled in the center of the floor while Hartmann looked on. His eyes skipped across Fox, Slippy, Miyu, and Rena before a disappointed frown appeared on his face. "Where's Scarlet?"

"She couldn't make it this time," Fox answered. "She said it had something to do with the mob here."

Hartmann's eyes descended to the floor. "I see. Well, the next time you see her, tell her that I said 'hi'."

Nodding, Fox replied, "I'm sure I will."

At that moment, a fierce, snarling, feminine shout emanated from behind a door on the back left part of the warehouse's wall. The echo inside the building stifled the voice, but not enough to mask the immense rage and hatred that it possessed. Seconds later, the door on the back wall opened, and Vincent stepped out. He locked eyes with his leader and growled, "She doesn't want to talk, boss. Not to worry…" he stopped and cracked his knuckles, allowing the sound to echo through the building. "…I'm about to break out the 'advanced interrogation techniques.'"

Hartmann's eyes widened in horror. "No, no, no—don't do that. We need her cooperation in this. If you're planning on doing what I think you're planning on doing, she'll never work with us."

"Well then, how about _you_ try to get that point across to her?" Vincent snapped, spitting a wad of saliva off to the side.

Hartmann had to admit that he had no real answers for Vincent's dilemma, but he knew that he would not allow him to torture the team's temporary prisoner, especially since they needed her help in the end. Trying to mask the uncertainty in his eyes, he replied, "I'll talk to her. Fox, you should come, too."

"What's this all about?" Fox asked, following the husky towards the back door.

Looking over his shoulder, Hartmann explained, "Remember the mercenary unit that was supposed to help you? Well, we killed all of them after we found out about their plan to assassinate the President instead of protecting her. All of them, that is, except for one person. The reason we need this one alive is because we're trying to get into the arena where the President is holding her rally by roleplaying as the team that we killed. It was a four-member group led by a woman named Joan Jones and her husband John. The team wasn't too far off from what we have—they even had a big guy who kinda sorta looked like Vincent. Actually…that's a stretch, but we'll work with it. The last member of the team was a new recruit named Lucinda; and because we needed a fourth, we kept her alive. What Vincent was trying to do was convince her to help us. Unfortunately, I think he misinterpreted that order as an opportunity to torture her. It's going to take a miracle to persuade her now."

"Wait—hold on," Fox replied as Hartmann gripped the door handle and prepared to open it. "Who's going to play Joan's part?"

In response, Hartmann grinned and pointed towards the workbench where Xavier sat. Right on cue, the cheetah glared at his leader and muttered, "I hate you."

"I'm sorry, honey. Sometimes you have to make sacrifices for love," Hartmann mocked, opening the back door and escorting Fox through it.

As soon as the two had entered the back room, Hartmann closed the door behind him. The room could have resembled a dungeon of sorts. It lacked windows and smelled like a wad of moldy cheese, the foul scent of which was only exacerbated by the searing heat radiating through the walls from the outside world. Several rotting crates and barrels lay scattered around the room. Any supplies that they may have contained at one point had long since been removed.

In the center of the room lay the captive, Lucinda—a youthful raccoon woman who seemed terrified to be in her current situation yet fiercely defiant of her captors. She wore what remained of her generic dark gray mercenary outfit, the top of which had been removed to reveal a black tank top. Ropes bound her hands and feet to a rudimentary wooden table with a strange apparatus above it. Every few seconds, a solitary drop of water would fall from the mechanism suspended above her forehead and splash onto her face.

That is, until Hartmann shoved the dropper off to the same and muttered, "Enough of that." Glaring at the raccoon, he spoke, "I'd like to apologize for my teammate. He can be a bit…"

"Douchey?" Lucinda spat. "You know, I don't appreciate you killing my team. I'm not going to help you, if that's what you want from me." When she spoke, both Fox and Hartmann noted that her voice and accent sounded similar to Krystal's.

Hartmann narrowed his eyes and forced a grin to his face. Pacing back and forth in front of the table, he replied, "While it would be nice for you to help us, it's not completely necessary. If need be, I'm more than prepared to spin a story about you picking up a nasty case of Chlamydia from a gigolo that you met up with recently. If anything, I'm only asking for your help because I'm a nice guy."

"Riiight," Lucinda sneered. "Do nice guys usually tie women to tables and torture them until they submit?"

"Actually," Fox cut in, "My girlfriend asked me to do that to her once."

For a moment, the room went silent. Then, Lucinda gasped, "What kind of perverted slut would ask for that?"

Fox rolled his eyes. "She would. But hey, I'm not going to be the one to turn her down."

Snickering at Fox's account of Scarlet's suggestion, Hartmann crossed his arms and returned his attention to the captive. "Seriously—we're willing to help you if you if you let us. Just so you know, the last time something like this happened, this guy…" he pointed to Fox, "…ended up recruiting someone from a unit that tried to kill him. I'm not going to promise anything, but I'm trying to tell you that we're reasonable people here."

"I'm still not sure I believe you," the raccoon scowled. "What do you want from me?"

"I want to know who paid your unit to ignore your previous orders and kill the President instead of protecting her. Was it Sergio del Rio and his camp? Or was it someone else, like an East Fortunan officer?"

"Wait," Fox interrupted. "I thought his name was Sergio de la Rio."

A faint smile appeared on Hartmann's face. "The reason you think that is because K.S. Reynard is a doofus who fails at Spanish." Looking back at Lucinda, he reiterated his previous question. "So, who was it?"

Lucinda sighed. "It _was_ someone with the East Fortunan military. I honestly don't know who."

Fox and Hartmann exchanged glances. After a momentary lull, Hartmann replied, "Thank you for your information. Now, we'd appreciate your help in preventing the President's assassination. Ultimately, it's your decision. You could come with us and do what you were supposed to do, or you could sit here in this room and rot until we get back. Your choice."

"How much are you going to pay me for this? The East Fortunan my team talked with offered us five million Cornerian credits for killing President Vinca."

Hartmann flinched for a brief second, but his countenance hardened again afterwards. "Since I and my team are going to be standing in for your team, we'll be paid whatever you had previously agreed on with the Titanian security forces. Now, I know what you're thinking; but don't even try it. If you go with us and then kill the President, we'll know exactly who did it; and then you'll be dead before your East Fortunan friend can give you a penny for your work. Believe me when I say that when my team has a mark, we don't miss it. Ultimately, it all comes down to you. You can either play along with us, get paid, and go on your way; you can go with us and try to kill the President anyway—in which case we'll make sure that you end up dead; or you can refuse. But, if you choose the last option, there's no guarantee that we won't kill you here and now."

"Because you're _sooo_ reasonable," Lucinda scoffed. "Listen, furbag—I'll play along with your stupid game, but you'd better make it worth my while. If you screw me over…well, I might not be able to do anything, but I'll tell you this: karma is a bitch, and she'll get you eventually. Do you hear me?"

"Sure," Hartmann replied. "Looks like we have a deal." With that, he untied the ropes holding Lucinda in place, allowing her to stand up and move on her own for the first time in over an hour. Moving towards the door, Hartmann told Fox and Lucinda, "We'll go over the plan in the main garage. This should be interesting."

He opened the door and stepped into the garage area, where he glanced at the rest of Fox's team and pointed towards the lunch table in the back left corner. "Have a seat over there. We'll discuss the plan, since it might be a bit different than what you had in mind."

Rena, Slippy, and Miyu nodded and sat down at the table. Hartmann, Fox, and Lucinda followed suit and sat across from them, while Xavier and Vincent had to content themselves with standing near the head of the table thanks to the others taking up all the room on both benches.

"Welcome, everybody," said Hartmann. "I'll try to make this quick. I'm sure Fox and his team want to get to their hotel as soon as possible, and I don't blame them—this part of town is a dump." He paused, then continued, "Anyway, the ultimate goal here is to protect President Vinca at all costs. However, there is a secondary goal that I'm much more interested in. We've received a tip that Rafa Ortega—one of the higher-ups in the East Fortunan military—is going to be in Abrugarvo during the President's rally. I know for sure that it would be in his best interest for the President to be assassinated, which is why I think he's probably the one behind the plan to pay Lucinda's unit to defy their orders."

He gave the raccoon next to him a wary glance, then explained, "Because my team's name is a bit too 'hot' at the moment thanks to some of the things we've been up to lately, we'll need to pose as the other members of Lucinda's team. Xavier—your assignment is to roleplay as the team's leader, Joan Jones."

At this, the cheetah bit his lip and looked at his boss as if he had been ordered him to emasculate himself—which was more or less an accurate description of his duty.

Hartmann grinned and continued, "I'll play the part of Joan's husband, John. He was an Alsatian and Joan was a tigress, so we'll both have to find a fur stylist who's good with dyes. Vincent, the same goes for you. You'll need to look like their third member, Miroslav, who was a white wolf. Your role also requires you to use a gratuitous accent and make comments about communism for additional camp value."

"I'll do it for glory of Motherland," Vincent replied.

Hartmann chuckled. "Very good. At least there's a chance that we might be able to pull this off." Looking to his right at Fox, he asked, "When's the official briefing for the job?"

"It's tomorrow at two in the afternoon," Fox replied. "We're supposed to meet up with the head of the Secret Service at the auditorium where the President is holding the rally."

"That settles that, then. I'll take you and your team to your hotel and pick you up tomorrow for the meeting, unless you've got a better idea."

On the other side of the table, Miyu and Slippy shrugged, while Rena stared absent-mindedly into space, her mind more focused on the details of her Final Ecstasy VII fanfiction than on Hartmann's suggestion.

Hartmann shrugged back and finished, "All right, it's settled. You can get back in the van if you want. You can also leave your weapons with us if you're not going to need them until the rally starts."

Fox stood up from the table and replied, "That sounds good. We didn't get any rental cars, so I really appreciate you offering to help with transportation."

"Hey—anything for a friend," said Hartmann, standing up and shaking Fox's hand. "Not to pry too much, but were you planning on doing anything later?"

Fox scratched his muzzle and looked towards the ceiling for a moment, then answered, "Honestly, I was going to try to find a gift for Scarlet. Want to help me?"

Hartmann's eyes lit up. "Of course! I'd love to. Anything for my favorite vixen."

"Hey—easy," Fox warned, "She's mine now."

In response, Hartmann let out a hearty laugh. "Good for you, Foxie. I knew she was the right one for you."

"Glad you think so," Fox trailed off. As he walked towards Hartmann's van—still pockmarked by bullet holes created during the escape from the Anthracite base in Katina—the thought occurred to him that his father was oblivious to the new development with the mission. With that in mind, he climbed into the passenger seat in Hartmann's van and opened his phone to call his father.

* * *

 _-_ § _-_

* * *

Somewhere else in Abrugarvo, on the sumptuous bed in her and James's shared room in The Oasis II resort, Mystic squirmed and let out a quiet moan as James performed an act that can't be described here because doing so would raise the rating to MA, which is unacceptable to the seemingly nonexistent website admins.

"Oh…James…" she whimpered, savoring every bit of her mate's 'implement.'

As the two joined in the act, James's phone rang. Having placed it on the dresser next to the bed, he had no way of reaching it without bringing his and Mystic's fantastical adventure to an end. Since he had no intention of doing that, he ignored it and tried to drown out the sound of the obnoxious ringer by focusing on…other things. While going deeper into unprintable territory, he thought, _"That was probably Fox. I'll have to get back to him later."_

* * *

 _AUTHOR'S NOTE(S):_

 _*_ This is technically incorrect grammar, but I used it for the sake of making the dialogue sound more conversational.


	22. Yellow Harbinger of Doom & Pizza Wheels

**Arc V: Executive Protection**

 _Part 3: The Yellow Harbinger of Doom and Pizza Wheels  
_

Morning dawned over Abrugarvo, signaling the beginning of the day on which President Vinca had scheduled her rally. The golden sunlight shone in through the windows of Fox's hotel room, but his alarm clock served as a more effective wakeup call. The instant the device beside his bedside buzzed, he reached over and silenced it with a lazy slap. Yawning, he sat up and looked at the other bed to his right, where Rena slept. Seemingly unaware of the alarm clock, she lay curled up beneath the sheets with her back turned to Fox.

"Time to get up, Rena," Fox mumbled, sliding out of bed and setting foot on the floor. Considering the nature of his asexual roommate, Fox did not bother to wear anything other than his boxers to bed. For the same reason, he felt no particular desire to dress himself before Rena awakened, either.

In spite of his order, Rena remained perfectly still. She let out a quiet, unconscious sigh, but nothing more.

Rolling his eyes, Fox crept over to her bedside and leaned over her. "Hey, Rena—wake up."

Still nothing.

Fox knew of one tactic that would be guaranteed to rouse her from her sleep, but he had a sneaking suspicion that it would not turn out well for him. Nevertheless, he felt that she had earned the right to be subjected to his newest plot. Being careful not to make any unnecessary noise, he reached down and tickled one of Rena's long, pointed ears. It twitched in response to his touch.

Then, suddenly, the sheets flew off of Rena's body. She uncoiled from her curled up position and lashed out, burying her feet into Fox's chest and kicking him with the power of her full body weight combined with the additional force created by her leg muscles.

Fox yelped in pain and lost his balance, crashing to the floor between the two beds. In the blink of an eye, Rena leaped out of her bed and landed in front of him, brandishing a pizza wheel with a noticeably rusted blade. Although her appearance was comical—she wore a cut-off white tank top that left her midriff exposed, a pair of white panties, and the same thigh-length striped socks that she had worn the previous day—Fox genuinely feared for his life.

Then, the yellow vixen opened her eyes, finding herself standing over Fox with her bloodied pizza cutter in hand. She gave him a strange glance, then tossed her pizza wheel back onto her bed. With a short yawn, she asked, "What happened to you, Senpai?"

Holding his chest, Fox panted, "You kicked the crap out of me, that's what happened."

"Huh…I don't remember doing that," Rena replied, climbing onto her bed and crossing her legs in front of her. "It must have been my instincts."

"Sleepkicking is not an instinct," Fox huffed.

With a straight face that lacked amusement, Rena stated, "It is for me. Did you try to tickle my ear?"

"Um…yeah…" Fox sheepishly replied.

Rena grinned. "Mystery solved. Now you know not to ever do that again."

Fox pushed himself off the ground while trying to ignore the throbbing sensation in his chest. For someone who only weighed fifty kilograms, her attack inflicted more pain than he would have thought possible. It reminded him of the few times in the past when he had been foolish enough to challenge her in a no-holds-barred sparring match during the days of his previous team.

He began walking towards the bathroom, but he stopped when he looked to his right and saw Rena curling up to go back to sleep. "Rena! Get up!" he snapped.

"It's too early!" the yellow vixen moaned with a childish voice. Nevertheless, she vaulted out of bed as if she had never had been tired to begin with. When Fox took another step towards the bathroom, she held up her hand and asked, "What are you doing?"

"I need to take a shower," Fox replied.

Instead of giving him a verbal response, Rena walked up to him and buried her muzzle in his chest. She gave his fur a quick sniff and shook her head. "You're passable. Don't bother."

"Are you sure about that?"

"Yes, Senpai," Rena grumbled. "Why would I lie to you about that?" She sniffed the fur on her arm and shrugged. "Sweet. I don't need one either. Looks like fifteen more minutes of sleep for me, then."

"If you go back to sleep, I'll tickle your ear again," Fox retorted.

Rena's ears folded backwards in defeat. Walking towards her suitcase in the back right part of the hotel room, she asked, "Why do you have to be such a buzzkill?"

"Because we've got a job to do today, and being late isn't an option. Drink some coffee or something…although the thought of you on caffeine is terrifying."

"You have a right to be afraid," Rena smirked. Unzipping her suitcase, she pulled out another band hoodie with cut-off sleeves—this one white with the image of a mind-bending fourth dimensional geometric shape on it—a pair of blue short shorts, a new pair of underwear, and another set of overly long blue and black socks. Not bothering to give herself any privacy, she stripped out of her night clothes in front of Fox, who promptly turned his back to her, partially to give her a semblance of privacy, but mostly because of what she would do to him if he became aroused.

To distract himself, he set to work selecting a uniform for the task at hand. He kept in mind that Rena would have a strong opinion of whatever he chose and would demand that he pick something else if he chose a set of clothes that she disliked. Considering the intense sunlight and heat in Titania, he selected a white and green set of fatigues and pulled them on just as Rena finished adjusting her socks.

"Be careful not to spill anything on that, Senpai," she warned, looking at his outfit.

Fox crossed his fingers and replied, "I guess the red Lizard-ade is out of the question today. Still, what are the odds of us doing anything that would stain these clothes?"

Rena's eyes narrowed. "Is that another way of asking, 'What could possibly go wrong?'"

"Maybe, if you want to think of it that way."

"Oh, that's just wonderful—you jinxed it. Something terrible is going to happen now."

Shaking his head, Fox assured her, "You're too superstitious. Nothing changed because I said that."

Rena did not seem to agree with him. "We'll see. Last time someone said that and I was around, people died."

"I guess that makes you the harbinger of doom, then," Fox joked. "Come on—let's get out of here. Hartmann's probably about to show up with the van."

* * *

 _-_ § _-_

* * *

Fifteen minutes later, Fox and his team (apart from his father) assembled outside the hotel and waited for Hartmann's van to arrive. In a matter of moments, the black vehicle pulled into the hotel parking lot, followed by another identical van driven by Vincent. When Hartmann's van pulled up to the curb, Fox made the first move and opened the sliding back door for the rest of his crew before he reached for the passenger's side door. He pulled it open, only to find a black-haired tigress in the shotgun seat, wearing an olive drab military uniform with a tag that read 'J&J Armed Contractors.'

"Good morning, Joan," Fox chuckled.

Fem-Xavier shot him an evil glance and muttered, "Shut up."

Trying not to laugh at the miserable feline, Fox climbed into the back with the rest of his team and sat down on the floor. After he closed the side door, he looked towards the front of the van and asked Hartmann, "Did you pick up my dad yet?"

The husky impersonating an Alsatian nodded. "Yeah, we did. He's the reason we're late. We didn't get here until now because we forced him to go back to his room and take a shower after he showed up smelling like sex."

Fox slammed his palm into his face. "I knew I shouldn't have let him join my unit. He's in the other van, right?"

"Right," Hartmann answered. "He's with Vincent and Lucinda."

Fearing the possible answer to his question, Fox covered his eyes and said, "Please don't tell me that he brought a pink vixen with him."

"No, she stayed at the hotel," Hartmann affirmed, accelerating out of the hotel parking lot and pulling onto the road adjacent to it. The outdoor amphitheater hosting the rally stood three miles from the hotel in the middle of Abrugarvo's West District – a matter of miles away from the far more upscale Business Sector that looked nothing like the rest of the city in terms of both color and architecture.

The van's suspension vibrated over the broken pavement as Hartmann weaved in and out of the oppressive traffic. He noted that many of the vehicles had sustained some sort of damage at one point or another. Not only that, but several other drivers on the road seemed to regard the city's traffic lights and cautionary signs as mere suggestions. They blew through the lights, ignoring the traffic that lawfully had the right of way.

At a stop light, Hartmann looked over his shoulder at Fox and his teammates. "We're a half mile from the auditorium. The rally's going to start in an hour and a half, but we don't need to be in position until that happens. For the time being, we just need to report to the Secret Service and then take our positions a few minutes before they let the people in. Remember what they discussed during the meeting yesterday: it's our job to secure the entry area and especially the hallways above it. Those are the most likely locations for an assassin to camp out; and if they can't find a good spot, assassinating the President will be all but impossible. Basically, if we all do our jobs right, this'll be the easiest money we've earned in months."

In the passenger's seat to Hartmann's right, Fem-Xavier muttered, "It'd better be, or else I'm going to find a way to get you back for this."

"Oh, relax—you're a natural!" Hartmann laughed, reaching over and slapping his teammate's fake breasts. The only response Fem-Xavier gave was to cross 'her' arms and look downwards.

Despite the venue being closed off to the public for the time being, Hartmann and Vincent struggled to find two suitable parking spaces near the auditorium. At long last, they pulled into a duo of parallel parking spaces behind a boxy, blue compact sedan on a tight side street adjacent to the building. The street in question only had one lane. Shadows created by the auditorium and a large bank across from it obscured much of the road that seemed eerily quiet compared to the rest of the city's overcrowded streets.

Shutting off the engine, Hartmann debarked from the van, followed by the others. Setting foot on the concrete sidewalk next to the ancient auditorium, Hartmann, Fem-Xavier, Fox, Rena, Miyu, and Slippy waited as Vincent, Lucinda, and James climbed out of the other van and joined them. With the group together, Fem-Xavier led them to the auditorium's front steps. It felt awkward for 'her' to give the illusion of leadership, but the situation called for it.

The auditorium had stood in Abrugarvo for over four hundred years—a testament to its solid construction and its immutable appearance that, in some ways, still seemed ahead of its time. In years past, it had served as a theater for regal guests and the higher-ups of society, but in more recent times, it had been converted into a tourist attraction that drew visitors in from all over the planet Lylat. The auditorium stood seventy feet tall, with a long set of carved sandstone steps leading up to the massive double wooden doors that marked the entrance.

At the top of the stairs, a pair of iguanas with black Secret Service uniforms opened the front doors for Xavier and Fox's teams, leading them inside after examining their badges and ID cards. A short corridor inside the doors ended with a curved hallway that ran parallel to it, eventually curving ninety degrees both to the right and left and giving the back of the auditorium a horseshoe layout. In the center of the curved hallway, at the point where the entry ended, gaps between ten stone pillars offered a view of the open-air standing area in the middle of the coliseum, and beyond that, the elevated stage where President Vinca would be making her speech.

If one were to walk fifty feet in either direction down the curved hallway, they would find the columns replaced with solid stone walls preventing any view of the stage or the standing area. Roughly the same distance from the entrance on both sides, two sets of stairs led to the second level, which housed numerous rooms that allowed a bird's eye view of the stage. At the moment, due to security reasons, all but one room on each side of the building had been blocked off. Even the two open rooms had been designated as security personnel stations designed to provide the President's security detail with a coherent view of any threats that had the possibility of arising.

The group came to a stop in front of the stone columns, where a calico cat wearing a Secret Service uniform decorated with a captain's rank insignia approached them and extended her hand to both "Joan" and Fox.

"Thank you for being punctual," she said in a stern tone of voice. "President Vinca and her entourage will be arriving in a few minutes. We'll be opening the doors for the public in an hour. That should give the technical staff enough time to make sure everything works for the President's speech."

"Very good," Fox replied. "What should we do in the meantime?"

The captain took a quick glance at the stage, four hundred feet away from her, and answered, "Stay where you are and take up your positions. Secret Service staff will handle the doors and the screening of the attendees. But…" she lowered her voice and whispered, allowing only Fox and "Joan" to hear her. "…We're extremely concerned that there _will_ be an assassin planted somewhere in this auditorium. At the first sign of trouble, we're pulling the plug. Understand?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"Good," said the captain. "During the rally, we will be in constant radio contact. Make sure to use your headsets. It's the best way." With that, she turned and walked through the pillars into the center of the auditorium. On the stage in the distance, the President herself appeared. She looked to be a white cat in her fifties, and she wore a professional-looking dark green pantsuit that reflected her slender frame.

With the head of the Secret Service out of earshot, both Fox and Hartmann's teams congregated in the center of the hallway, in front of the pillars. All in sequence, each of them pulled on a wiry headset and powered it on. The sounds of other Secret Service members conversing filled their eyes seconds later.

Approaching Lucinda, who stood next to the white-dyed Vincent, Hartmann temporarily muted his headset and growled, "I don't agree with the Secret Service assigning you with the second floor overlook room, but we can't change that. I'm just warning you, if you try anything…" he trailed off and held a finger gun to his head. "Bang—you're dead."

Lucinda replied with a faint nod. "I understand. You can trust me."

Meanwhile, Fox leaned against one of the pillars and glared at his father, who seemed to be taking the mission less seriously than he should have. "Hey, Dad," Fox muttered.

"Yeah—what is it?"

"I think we need to have a talk."

A smirk appeared on James's face. "Oh, let me guess—this is about Mystic, isn't it?"

Crossing his arms, Fox explained, "Kind of, but there's more to it than that. You're not taking this seriously, like…at all."

"I'm taking this as seriously as Uncle Peppy's cholesterol reading," James retorted.

"No—you're taking it about as seriously as _he_ takes his cholesterol reading, which means that you aren't taking it seriously at all. Listen, Dad, I'm trying to run a real, professional operation here. It feels like you're just trying to turn this into your own joyride, and I can't have that."

"Fox…" James sighed, lowering his ears in a rare display of emotional weakness. "Come on—you're being too uptight about this. When things get serious, I take them seriously. But we're not there yet. Maybe it's you who needs to lighten up a little bit. I mean, look at Hartmann and his group—they crack jokes all the time, just not when the situation calls for more serious talk. Besides," he added, "Mystic's coming to the rally later on. I have an incentive to take this mission seriously."

Fox's eyes widened in shock and horror. "She's…coming…here…?"

"Hey—relax, son. I told her that I won't be able to interact with her until we're done. She just wants to see us in action, that's all. I figured it was fine. After all, if we do our jobs right, this will be 100% safe."

Fox said nothing.

"Do you not like her or something?" James demanded, putting his hands on his hips. "Tell me, son."

Letting out an angry sigh, Fox turned to the side and grumbled, "I'm sure she's wonderful. There's just something about her that rubs me the wrong way—like how she fell for you so quickly. You know, if I were you, I'd be worried about her trying to play you for your money."

"It sounds like you're jealous to me," James smirked.

"Dad! I'm dating _Scarlet,_ for crying out loud! I'm definitely not jealous of your pink girlfriend. What kind of person dyes their fur that color, anyway?"

The elder vulpine looked over his shoulder at the yellow-dyed Rena as she played with her smartphone. Then, he returned his attention to Fox. "It's natural, caused by a genetic defect. She's also a war orphan. Her whole body is scarred. It's why she always wears long-sleeved turtlenecks and long pants."

Suddenly, Fox felt miserable for making his previous comment. "Oh…I'm so sorry. I didn't know."

"She says that I'm the first person who really loves her for who she is," James continued. "I agree. In fact…" he reached into his pocket and pulled out a black velvet box, which he popped open to reveal a delicate diamond ring.

Fox took a distressed step backwards. "Dad! Are you…?"

"I am," James proudly announced. "I'm proposing to her after the mission is over. Maybe you should start being more respectful to your future stepmom."

At this, Fox's stomach turned in revulsion and disgust. "My stepmom?! She's younger than _me!_ "

"I know, right? Isn't it great? Just think—she won't even turn 50 until I'm almost 80. I think it's safe to say that you'll be having a few brothers and sisters in the near future." He winked, cementing the fact that his statement was intended to be every bit as suggestive as it sounded.

"I think I'm going to puke," Fox gurgled. His stomach agreed. While covering his mouth with his hands, he scanned the immediate area until he spotted a bathroom near the entrance. Eyes wide, he bolted for the opened door and raced inside.

* * *

 _-_ § _-_

* * *

An hour passed. Then, the Secret Service guards at the main entrance unlocked the double doors, allowing the first of the estimated three thousand rally attendees into the ancient auditorium. The noise level inside the building quickly rose to a painful level as the citizens flooded the arena. Amidst the teeming throngs, Fox noticed numerous attendees holding signs for the rival candidate, Sergio del Rio.

Fox and James took up positions near the pillars in the center of the entryway, with Hartmann and Vincent standing next to each of them, respectively. They stood twenty feet apart opposite from each other to allow the rally-goers to walk through the pillars and into the main standing area. Rena stood behind Fox, eyeing the left-side hallway. From where she stood, she lacked a clear view of the stairs leading to the second floor, but she figured that her viewpoint would be acceptable. From among the crowd of civilians, she noticed a cluster of over twenty nuns entering the building. Each of them wore a black gown with white trimmings and a prominent hood that obscured each of their faces. Presumably for religious reasons, the Secret Service guards ushered them into the building without any issues. After clearing the main doors, the nuns turned left and congregated near Rena to talk amongst themselves, away from the flood of the other people entering the building.

Ignoring the fact that they likely disapproved of her staring at them, Rena focused her eyes on the pack of nuns as if a heart of sheer evil lurked within their midst. Thanks to their number, they obscured Rena's view of the hallway; and this, coupled with Rena's own distrustful tendencies, fueled her suspicion. Out of the corner of her eye, she thought she saw one of the nuns break from the group and creep towards the second level stairs, but she had no clear way of knowing if that had actually happened.

Gritting her teeth, she prepared to intervene and order the nuns to move out of the hallway, even though they had not technically done anything wrong. However, the nuns seemed to notice her aggression and moved away before she could force them to. With the black-robed nuisances filing into the auditorium, Rena breathed a tense sigh of relief. Still, she still wondered if the lone nun had climbed the stairs.

She spoke into her headset. "Captain, I think a nun might have gone up to the second level to get a better view of the stage. Can you have Sgt. Merriweather or Lucinda check on that hallway? Over."

The Secret Service captain's voice echoed through her ears (as well as the ears of the other Secret Service members and the mercenaries) a moment later. "Merriweather, keep an eye on that second level hallway. Don't make a scene, but make sure no one gets up there."

"Yes, Captain," Merriweather replied, his voice garbled by his headset.

Shaking her head, Rena turned around the glared through the opening in the pillars. She stood near the point where the pillars ended and turned into a solid stone wall, but she could still see President Vinca as she began her speech.

" _My fellow Titanians, let me assure you that we are all in this together! From the beginning of my first campaign four years ago, my only goal has been to elevate the interests of you—the voters—to a national—and thanks to our partnership in the COMMERCE agreement—an international level as well."_

At this, sections of the large standing audience erupted into 'boos.' Many Titanians considered the international partnership as a raw deal favoring the mineral resource giants responsible for generating and then exploiting much of the desert country's GDP at the expense of the general public's own welfare.

Unabated by the unhappy audience, Vinca continued, _"Over the past four years, we've made unprecedented progress in medicine, health care, and economic growth; and by keeping me as President of Titania, you can rest assured knowing that my tried-and-tested policies will continue to improve each and every one of your lives. With your votes, we will become even greater yet; and I promise you, the growth of this country will filter down to each one of you. Now, who's excited about that?"_

A tepid, lukewarm 'yay' reverberated through the open-air auditorium.

" _Holy cow—does anyone even_ like _this woman?"_ Rena wondered.

A moment later, her attention drifted to her headset as the Secret Service Captain's voice entered her ears. "Sergeant Meriweather, please report. Did you see anything on the second level?"

Silence.

"Meriweather, come in. Did you find an intruder on the second floor?"

Still, no response came from the sergeant.

The captain's voice took on a fearful property. "Meriweather is unresponsive. Lucinda, check the hallway and report back to me."

"Yes, Captain," Lucinda replied with a voice that seemed slightly more upbeat than it had been in the previous two days. Two seconds passed before she spoke up again. "I don't see him anywhere. What's going on?"

"All Secret Service staff and mercenary units, Meriweather's gone AWOL, and he's not responding to any communications. Stand by—we're going to have to bring this rally to an early end."

Ignoring the captain's statement, Lucinda broke in, saying, "With all due respect, I don't think we need to do that. These people have taken off work and traveled miles to attend this rally. I think it's a bad idea to end it on nothing more than a knee-jerk reaction."

Anger seeped into the Captain's words as she replied, "You don't have the right to question my orders, _mercenary!_ We're shutting this down—now. Our intelligence suggests that someone is here to assassinate President Vinca, and I wouldn't put it past Meriweather to do it. I trust my men, but with the stakes in this country as high as they are, anything's possible. Guard staff and all mercenaries, hold your positions. We're getting the President off the stage."

At that moment, a subtle intuition occurred to Rena. _"Oh, fark. It's the nun."_

"It's the nun!" she shouted, darting towards the stairs leading to the second level. Ignoring the puzzled expressions of her counterparts and the Secret Service guards, she raced up the stairs, bounding over two and three steps at a time. After she reached the second floor, her eyes darted back and forth between both sides of the narrow, curved hallway, illuminated only by small, wall-mounted sconces.

Nobody in sight.

" _Fark, fark, fark, fark, fark! No, dammit!"_

She looked down the curving hallway for any signs of life. Several doors lined the right side of the wall, but the last door—the one farthest from her—attracted her attention. She knew that the room had been converted into an overlook for a security staff member—in this case, Lucinda—yet the door had been shut when it should have been open.

Rena knew that she needed to act quickly. She sprinted towards the closed door. Assuming it to have been locked, she kicked it with her full body weight whilst running. The right edge of the door gave way, and it flew open. Amidst the spray of splintering wood, Rena launched into the room, where the lone nun stood near the opened window overlooking the stage. The nun held a compact rifle that looked like a 'suitcase gun' that had not been fully assembled. On the floor to her right lay Lucinda's dead body, covered in blood that dripped out from a horrific gash in her throat.

The sound of Rena smashing through the door sent the nun into a panic. She attempted to line up her gunsights on President Vinca, but with her gun in a partially-assembled state, this proved to be difficult. Barely losing momentum from ramming the door open, Rena lunged at the nun with a flying tackle. The moment before the yellow vixen touched her, the nun pulled the trigger and fired off a single shot.

* * *

 _AUTHOR'S NOTE(S):  
_

 _In all honesty, this probably could have been published two days ago. The reason that didn't happen is because I had originally planned for this chapter to continue much farther. However, when I realized that it was going to end up being a 10,000 word chapter, I sliced it up. The next chapter probably won't take much time to put together.  
_

 ** _Secondly,_ _I have a new poll_ _up._** _This is your chance to change the future! Well, at least the future of this story. If you're interested, go to my profile and check it out. It contains a mild spoiler for this story, which is why I'm not writing the question here. Unlike most of my polls, the end result will be 100% dependent on your votes - not on my final choice. If there's a tie, I'll break it; but otherwise, it's entirely up to you._


	23. The Chase, Act 1

_AUTHOR'S NOTE(S):  
_

 _Well, that was fast.  
_

* * *

 **Arc V: Executive Protection**

 _Part 4: The Chase – Act 1_

With an earsplitting bang, the bullet leapt out of the rifle barrel and streaked towards the stage. It sped towards President Vinca, but missed to the left by the narrowest of margins. Instead of striking its target, the bullet embedded itself in the Secret Service captain's neck as she moved to force Vinca off the stage. The rapid turn of events, coupled with the roar of the deafening gunshot, sent the audience into a frenzy. Screaming, they raced towards the only exit, trampling over each other in desperation.

Above the main level, Rena's flying tackle knocked the nun to the ground. The hooded assassin dropped her rifle as she hit the floor, but she refused to go down without a fight. She buried her fist in Rena's stomach, then shoved her off of her body. Not bothering to pick up her weapon, the nun jumped to her feet and sprinted out of the room.

With a grunt of pain, Rena jumped up and took off after the nun. The hallway outside of the overwatch room streaked by until she reached the stairs, which she bounded down at a decidedly unsafe speed. Her eyes latched onto the nun as she joined the teeming horde of civilians attempting to flee the arena. To her utter dismay, the selfsame group of nuns that the assassin had arrived with stormed out of the auditorium at the same time that the assassin reached the bottom of the stairs.

Fox, Hartmann, and the Secret Service had no power to stem the tide of fleeing attendees. When the two door guards moved to block the exit, the mob merely stormed over them, shoving the front doors open in the process. With the entryway packed beyond its maximum capacity, Rena gritted her teeth and reached for the two holsters on her hips. Her hands gripped the duo of powered pizza wheels that passed as weapons for her. Each pizza wheel had a solitary button on the handle, which Rena activated, causing the two metal blades to begin spinning.

Then, she lunged into the crowd, forcing the attendees aside with her blades. Additional shrieks and screams filled the entryway, but she paid them no mind. The pack of nuns was her sole priority at this point. At that moment, the nuns sprinted through the front doors and burst outside with Rena in hot pursuit. Four hundred yards away, in an oversized parking space next to an upscale restaurant, sat a large bus with "St. Barnabas' Basilica" printed on the side. The nuns sprinted towards the vehicle, while hundreds of other escapees ran in all directions—except for the direction of the auditorium, of course. Traffic on the streets came to a standstill as the panicked civilians tore across the roads, hell-bent on putting as much distance between them and the amphitheater as possible.

In the midst of the chaos, Rena noticed one of the nuns breaking from the group. The lone figure darted off to the right—in the direction of the two parked Onyx vans on the side street near the amphitheater.

"Oh no you don't!" Rena shouted, brandishing her pizza wheels and breaking into a sprint that would have impressed a medaling athlete. The nun's loose-fitting robe hindered her movements, allowing Rena to make up ground on her. As she closed in, Rena could sense the nun's fear. The duo rounded the corner of the amphitheater with the nun ahead by fifty meters.

Onyx's two vans came into view, along with the blue sedan parked in front of them. While running, the nun pulled a set of keys out of hammerspace and threw open the compact's driver's side door. Not bothering to close said door, she cranked the engine and shoved the car into gear. The vehicle's tiny tires shrieked against the pavement and left a short set of rubber streaks in their wake. The driver's door slammed shut on its own as the car sped off.

Still, Rena refused to give up. Having been only ten feet behind the blue car at the point where it had begun moving, she felt that if the city's traffic was congested enough, she still would have a chance at catching up with the vehicle on foot.

The sedan sped down the narrow, one-lane road that ended in a four-way intersection. At the moment, the traffic light over the road flashed red; but the blue sedan showed no signs of slowing down. The nun hammered the car's horn and sped through the light. The heavy traffic forced her to turn left to avoid slamming into other vehicles. Thanks to her carrying too much speed into the turn, her tires screamed and lost traction. The sedan overshot the road and bounded over the curb, plowing through a roadside box full of newspapers and clipping a metal table on an outdoor patio in front of a café.

Rena raced across the one-way street and jumped onto the sidewalk on the left side of the road. She rounded the next street corner in pursuit of the nun, who was driving as if possessed. In a straight line for limited periods of time, Rena could reach twenty miles an hour; but she would not be able to maintain the same rate of speed for long. In the forefront of her mind, the realization occurred to her that if she wanted to stop the nun, she would have to hurry.

Sprinting along the sidewalk, she looked ahead and to her right in time to see the nun attempt to shoot through a gap between a brown SUV and a massive city bus. The gap turned out to be too small, and when the SUV refused to yield, the nun sideswiped it and shot through the resulting hole in traffic. The blue compact lacked power and struggled to accelerate through the slow-moving traffic, allowing Rena to keep the vehicle in her sights. Still, the unmistakable burning sensation of impending exhaustion seared her lungs as she darted between pedestrians on the sidewalk.

The next traffic light turned red. The traffic in front of the nun's blue car came to a stop, but the nun would have none of it. She practically smashed the horn through the steering wheel, then cranked the wheel to the left and turned into the currently-empty opposite lane. Cross traffic began moving through the intersection. The nun ignored it and sped through the light, only to be struck in the left rear quarter panel by a small hatchback as it crossed the intersection.

Both cars came to a standstill for a mere moment before the nun accelerated off with half of her bumper dangling from the rear frame. The accident brought the cross traffic to a stop, allowing Rena to dart across the crosswalk without the risk of being flattened.

The burning in her lungs increased, reaching an agonizing level. She knew she could not take much more.

Impaired by the collision and struggling to pick up speed while weaving through more traffic, the nun forced her way into the left turn lane for the next street light just as said light displayed a green arrow. The two cars in front of the nun's damaged sedan crawled off the line, lackadaisically rounding the corner and pulling onto the next road. The nun honked her horn and tried to pass them, but this only frightened the other drivers and caused them to slow down even more.

Rena saw a window of opportunity—about the size of an inescapable prison window, but still a window nonetheless. She tore down the sidewalk with the blue car dead in her sights. Aiming for the corner of the building at the edge of the intersection, she jumped off the sidewalk and onto the road itself just as the nun completed the turn and pulled out from behind the two slower cars. With no time to waste, Rena leaped towards the sedan with both pizza wheels held in front of her. She slammed them down on the trunklid as the blue car picked up speed. The wheels dug into the sheet metal, giving her a purchase on the fleeing vehicle.

Hanging onto the back of the nun's car by her pizza wheels, Rena realized that she may have made a mistake. But she saw no other way of stopping the nun, who realized that she had picked up an unwanted passenger and began frantically weaving back and forth in an attempt to throw Rena off.

The blue car sped through another red light at the top of the uphill road, inciting a barrage of angry horn blasts. However, above the sound of the horns came the screeching of tires and the roar of a V8 engine. Mere feet behind Rena, a large black van skidded around the previous corner. She hazarded a glance over her shoulder in time to catch of glimpse of Hartmann in the driver's seat, with Fox seated next to him. Unfortunately, two police cars rounded the corner behind them, their lights and sirens wailing in protest of the speeding van.

* * *

 _-_ § _-_

* * *

Inside said van, Fox glared at the right side mirror and snapped, "Dammit! Why are they going after _us?_ We're the good guys here! Shouldn't they be trying to protect the President?"

Hartmann bared his teeth and held the gas pedal to the floor in hopes of pulling alongside the nun's car. "You'd better stop asking questions and call 9-1-1 now to tell them what's going on!" When Fox hesitated, the dyed husky roared, "That wasn't a fucking suggestion! Do it!"

"Okay, okay!" Fox pulled his phone out of his pocket and entered the three digit police code. Then, he pressed the 'call' button. In two seconds, a female operator picked up and said, "9-1-1, what's your emergency?"

Fox wasted no time in explaining himself. "Hey, this is Fox McCloud with Foxfire Enterprises. We were hired to protect the President at her rally and we're trying to chase down the person who tried to shoot her, but two of your guys are getting in the way. Tell them to stop chasing after us and go after a blue Honyota sedan with…let me see…license plate number IU 0925."

With a shaky voice, the operator responded, "Um, sir, I can't order those officers to do anything. I'll have to report this to my supervisor. He might be able to do something."

"Might?" Fox snarled. "Listen—that car needs to be stopped, and the cops behind us definitely aren't helping. If they don't back off or go after the blue car, we'll be forced to use extreme measures."

"Wait! What do you mean by that?"

"Use your imagination," Fox growled, closing the call and shoving his phone back into his pocket.

The blue car continued barreling down the city road, weaving through traffic while Rena struggled to hold onto her embedded pizza wheels. In the pursuing van, Hartmann fought against the weight of his own vehicle that prevented him from making the same traffic maneuvers—not to mention the two police cruisers that continued to hound him.

As he followed the nun's car through yet another red light, Hartmann swore and looked over his shoulder. In a coordinated motion, both police cruisers accelerated, skirting the van on both sides. He knew what this meant. They were planning to pull ahead and create a rolling roadblock as part of a ploy to bring the pursuit to a controlled end.

"Hang on, Fox!"

Hartmann clutched the steering wheel and jerked it hard to the right at the same moment that the pursuing police cars pulled alongside him. The van slammed against the side of the police car to the right and shoved it out its lane. The recoil from the collision forced the van back to the left. Using the momentum to his advantage, Hartmann then turned the wheel in the other direction and bashed the cruiser to the left, hitting it in the right front quarter panel and sending it into a slow drift that forced its driver to slam on the brakes in order to avoid ramming a number of parallel parked cars lining the street.

The two police cars dropped back once again, but Hartmann knew that after this, they would be willing to try far more aggressive measures to bring his van to a stop. "Fox!" he barked, "Check your map! We're heading north—tell me where that leads."

Fox extracted his phone and opened his mapping app, which displayed his current location as a rapidly-moving blue arrow. Zooming out, he looked over the map of Abrugarvo and noticed that the road ahead led into industrial district where the city's major interstate highway intersected it and broke off into the desert to the north of the city.

"Hartmann—the assassin's trying to get onto the interstate. At least that's what it looks like…"

The Alsatian-painted-husky shook his head and commented, "I wouldn't be surprised if they've got someone waiting out there in the desert to help them get out of here. If we stay on them, we might derail their plans. Now if only these stupid _cops_ would get the hell off of us!"

The cluttered urban area gave way to a less-populated industrial zone, replete with antiquated factories, coal-burning plants, and chain-link fences that lined both sides of the road. Thanks to the lack of any tall buildings, Fox could make out the faint outline of a massive suspension bridge far in the distance. With less traffic to negotiate with, the pursuit picked up speed. The nun continued to panic while Rena clung on for dear life, while the two police cars behind Hartmann's van followed close behind him.

Then, a new sound filled the air—the throbbing of helicopter blades. The sound came from behind the van; and when Hartmann and Fox looked into their respective mirrors, they watched as a police chopper banked out from behind one of the factories in the area and joined the chase.

"Oh—just wonderful! So, not only did they _not_ listen to you, they sent _more_ cops after us!" Hartmann snapped. "I'm about to lose it completely. If that assassin gets away because of this, I will personally shove the Abrugarvo police chief's head up his own ass."

Fox admitted that he would have laughed had the situation not been so dire. Increasingly, he feared that if something did not change soon, Rena would be the only thing standing between the fleeing assassin and a clean getaway. And he had little confidence in her ability to hold onto the blue car's trunk by her pizza wheels for much longer.

A quarter mile ahead, a railroad crossing appeared. Fox thought little of it until the warning lights on the side began flashing. When the railroad gates lowered in preparation for the rapidly approaching train, both he and Hartmann felt their pulses rise. Ignoring the command to stop, the nun kept her gas pedal planted against her car's firewall. The tiny sedan's anemic four cylinder engine made an obnoxious, rice-burning 'blatter.'

Now only fifty feet behind the nun's back bumper, Fox looked through the chainlink fence to his left and saw a massive freight train approaching. Worse yet, he realized that the nun had a chance of crossing the tracks before the train reached the crossing—but Hartmann's chances seemed less certain. As if to reinforce the point, the police cars stopped tailing the van and slowed to a crawl.

Fox held his breath and prayed for a miracle.

The two cars reached eighty miles an hour. By this point, neither of them had even the slightest chance of stopping in front of the train tracks, even if they wanted to. The roaring locomotive's horn bellowed as it approached the crossing. Hanging from the back of the nun's car, Rena stared at the train and looked ready to leap off, even though hitting the pavement at eighty miles an hour meant certain death or crippling injury.

The nun kept her foot on the gas pedal. Reaching the train tracks, she smashed through the lowered gate and caught air on the elevated tracks. Rena held on for dear life, the forces of inertia conspiring to throw her into the air. Behind the blue car, Hartmann squinted his eyes to avoid having to see the train out of his peripheral vision. He heard the sound of its grinding wheels and its blaring horn and knew that life and death hung in the balance by a matter of inches.

Hitting the slight hump over the tracks, the van left the ground for the briefest of moments. Then, the grating sound of metal being shredded filled the air at the same moment that the train barreled through the crossing. The van rotated rapidly to the left while in-air, but Hartmann gripped the wheel and brought the vehicle back in line upon hitting the ground.

"Holy crap," Hartmann gasped. "I think the train took off the back bumper."

Unable to form words, Fox breathlessly nodded and focused his eyes on the nun's car. Further up the road, a large overpass came into view. Both he and Hartmann assumed that it belonged to the major interstate highway that the nun intended to pull onto. It looked to be only a half mile away. Concern gripped him regarding the protracted car chase, but his fear for Rena's safety outweighed even that. On the open interstate, the nun would be free to accelerate to speeds of over a hundred miles an hour; and he doubted that Rena could hang on at that rate of speed. At the same time, the nun's car was still moving too quickly for Rena to jump off; and despite his van's significant power advantage over the compact, Hartmann struggled to close the gap between the vehicles.

The two police cars sat on the other side of the train tracks behind them, unable to continue the chase. However, the ever-present police helicopter tailed them, flying only fifty feet above the ground. Even though no tall buildings stood out in the industrial area and the roads were far wider than they had been in the downtown area, Fox still found it worrying that the helicopter's pilot would dare to fly that low for something as seemingly trivial as a car chase.

His ears perked up as the helicopter accelerated and hovered directly over Hartmann's van. Then suddenly, a rapid-fire hail of bullets rained from above. The roof absorbed some of them, but over ten of them penetrated through the metal and sped into the van's interior. Fox yelled and covered his head with his hands—as if that would do anything. At the exact same time, Hartmann let out a pitiable canine squeak that turned into a bloodcurdling roar when he looked at his arm and noticed a trail of blood seeping out of it. As if to add insult to injury, the helicopter fired off a second salvo.

Fox could feel the bullets as they whizzed around him, but miraculously, none of them hit him. Hartmann, on the other hand, had no such luck. No fewer than two additional rounds dug into his already-wounded arm, prompting an ear-piercing scream of pain. With the entirety of his attention focused on his blood-gushing arm, he swerved back and forth on the road.

Fox considered the handgun on his hip and wondered if he could do anything to keep the chopper from firing on the van again, but nothing stood out to him. He looked over his shoulder into the back seat and saw an RPG cannon mounted to the interior side wall, but he knew that he lacked the time to arm it and aim at the helicopter before it reduced the van to a smoldering husk filled with dead canids.

"Dammit! Why is this happening?" he shouted at the top of his lungs.

* * *

Having heard the gunshots from the pursuing helicopter, Rena looked over her shoulder at the chopper and felt chills run down her spine when she saw a familiar face in the cockpit. Baring her teeth in rage, she wiggled her right pizza cutter out from the nun's trunklid and pressed the button to activate the blade. Then, holding on with only one arm, she hurled the pizza wheel at the helicopter.

The utensil soared through the air almost like a Frisbee, its absurdly sharp blade slicing through the wind with its target dead in its sights. It overshot the helicopter's cockpit, but instead took a path straight towards the base of the chopper's top rotors. The blade sheared the assembly in half, ripping the rotors clean off the top of the helicopter. With no upward thrust, the chopper plunged towards the ground. It slammed cockpit-first into the pavement mere feet behind Hartmann's van. The impact triggered a leak in the fuel system that ignited mere seconds later. Engulfed in flames, the helicopter came to rest in the center of the empty street.

Rena mentally flipped the chopper the bird and celebrated her improbable throw, but her excitement left her clueless to the nun's next move, which was to slam on her brakes and make a hard right turn into a nearby side street. Her one-handed grip on her only remaining pizza wheel was not enough to keep her from being launched forwards. Her body flipped in mid-air. Then, she crashed down butt-first on the pavement and bounced twice before she came to a stop.

Her whole body engulfed in pain, she managed to sit up as Hartmann's van slowed down to make the turn to follow the nun. Yet still, both Hartmann and Fox looked hesitant to continue the pursuit on account of her. Even though she felt far from fine, Rena vehemently waved her arms at the van and motioned for them to continue the chase. She'd be fine in the end, she thought.

Standing up, she felt an unpleasant warm, wet feeling on her back and unzipped her hoodie, which had been irreparably torn after skidding on the asphalt. She tossed it on the ground and felt the back of the cut-off white tank top that she wore under it. As she feared, the sticky sensation came from her own blood. Nevertheless, she felt like she owed some deity of good fortune a favor after literally walking away from being thrown from a moving car. Her right leg felt numb, but she had a feeling that it would heal in relatively little time. After all, she had little trouble moving as it was.

She strolled towards the crashed helicopter, which was spewing flames in all directions. The fire department would arrive soon enough, she reasoned, but before they showed up, she needed to know if the chopper's pilot had been the man she thought she had recognized. Using caution on account of the flames, she approached the burning chopper, only for a single vulpine figure to crawl out of the wreckage, his dark blue police clothes burned and tattered.

His dark red fur and dull, yellow eyes brought back years of memories to Rena's mind; and when he removed his destroyed police jacket and revealed his scarred, heavily tattooed bare torso, she audibly gasped. But her shock did not remain for long. Sheer hatred and anger replaced her surprise, and she let her canine teeth show.

"Rafa," she growled.

* * *

 _AUTHOR'S NOTE(S):_

 _BOSS BATTLE 2, coming soon..._

 ** _In response to the Guest reviewer from Chapter 21:_**

 _Believe me - I've definitely considered that I need to keep Scarlet from becoming stale. In all fairness, the reason for the pushing of the Fox/Scarlet pairing is because a fair amount of this story's readership applauded it. All things considered, I had been wanting to do a Fox/OC pairing for a while, so pardon me for going through with that fantasy. I think you can expect for Scarlet to start acting more natural in future chapters.  
_

 _Also, the general consensus about the poll so far is kind of funny to me. I won't say why, but then again, you won't know the result until it actually happens in the story._


	24. Boss Battle 2

**Arc V: Executive Protection**

BOSS BATTLE 2

Music: Napalm Poet (Angry Man Remix) – Adam Ellis

* * *

Standing in front of the burning chopper, the dark-furred fox smirked at Rena and laughed, "Ah, Rena—we meet yet again. But sadly, I have no time to stay and chat. I've got more important things to take care of, and now I have to hurry to make sure I finish them…" He paused, allowing his muzzle to curl into a furious, spiteful show of aggression. "…Since you _destroyed my helicopter,_ you stupid bitch! _"_

"You had it coming, scumbag," Rena retorted. "What? You thought I was just going to let you shoot Fox full of holes?"

Rafa's ears spiked in surprise. "Say what?! Fox was in that van? I had no idea, but _damn_ it would have been convenient to blow him straight to hell. And now that I know that, I hate you even more!"

"Ow my feelings," Rena replied, rolling her eyes and inadvertently referencing a Peripherals song. "I couldn't care less what you think about me, to be honest. I never got what Fox saw in you. Heck, you betraying the team and trying to kill us all was so predictable that I saw it coming the instant you went into your emo phase—which I see you haven't gotten out of yet."

"I'm not emo! Men with ambitions like mine simply refuse to waste their time on childish emotions such as 'happiness' or 'compassion.' Angst and depression are the true signs of emotional maturity, because they signal that a person has finally gotten serious about their life."

Rena rolled her eyes again and tried not to laugh her head off. "Yeeeahhhh…right. You know what? Why don't you do me a favor and pick up an Asking Cassandra tank top for me when you go to Cold Topic later today?"

Rafa stopped cold for a second and tried to hide the fact that he was on the verge of exploding in rage. Then, he answered, "Unfortunately, I won't be heading that way anytime soon. I've got places to be right now, so I'll catch you later. Adios." He then began walking in the direction of the distant Abrugarvo city center.

"Oh no you don't!" Rena snapped, bolting after him and forcing him to acknowledge her presence. "You are _not_ going anywhere."

Turning to face Rena, Rafa crossed his arms and cracked an evil smirk. "Oh, but I am. I was hoping that you wouldn't try to stop me—for your sake."

"Don't make me laugh, Rafa. You know for a fact that I could kick your sorry ass with both an arm and a leg in a cast and my tail tied around my good leg. In fact, I remember beating you in a sparring match like that once."

"Ah, but that was in the past," Rafa reflected, looking towards the orange late afternoon sky. "Since then, I have become more powerful than you could possibly imagine. Not only that, but without your idiotic pizza wheels, you are powerless. Face me, if you dare."

"Pfft!" Rena spat. "I should call you Dyson, because you suck more than a vacuum cleaner at hand-to-hand combat. I've been waiting for this for a long time." She cracked her knuckles. "I promise—this is going to hurt _a lot._ "

"For you," Rafa chuckled. "Arda en el enfierno, bitch!"

* * *

He charged towards Rena, fists held in front of his face. He jabbed a powerful right hook at Rena's head. With seemingly no effort, the yellow vixen blocked his arm and shoved it to the left. Rafa's punch hit nothing but air, allowing Rena to retaliate. She turned to the side and launched a high side kick that caught Rafa square in the muzzle. While he stumbled backwards, she spun counterclockwise and whipped her left leg around the back of her body. Her foot slammed into the same injured spot on Rafa's face.

She used the inertia from her flying back kick to jump back into a fighting stance, facing Rafa. The larger vulpine wiped a trace of blood off his lips and snarled, "You're going to have to try harder than that."

Rena curled the corner of her mouth and casually replied, "Okay. How about this?" Reaching into her back shorts pocket, she produced a shuriken and hurled it at Rafa. The ninja star embedded itself in its target's chest, inciting an immediate spray of blood from the injured area.

Acting as though he felt no pain, Rafa extracted the shuriken from his chest and tossed it to the ground. In mere seconds, the gaping wound in his flesh closed up and stopped bleeding as if he had never been injured in the first place. He smirked. "I thought we were going to fight fair."

"Rule two of the Kitanai Sagi-Shi Warrior's Handbook: 'It's harder to win in a fair fight. Therefore, always cheat.'"

"I'm glad you said that," replied Rafa, reaching behind his back. "Because now it's my turn." He drew a black handgun and took aim at Rena.

Rena raised her eyebrows, but refused to panic. In the blink of an eye, she performed a high roundhouse kick with her right leg that caught Rafa's gun-wielding hand and knocked the weapon away. However, it left her open to a return strike.

Rafa wasted no time in lashing out with a violent side kick that hit Rena in the stomach. The powerful impact knocked her off her feet and onto the pavement. Seizing his opportunity, Rafa dove forwards, intending to pin Rena to the ground.

Bad move.

As he leaped for her, Rena uncoiled her legs and pummeled the larger vulpine in the chest with enough force to knock him away from her. He landed next to her with an awkward 'thud' and rolled over, looking shaken up.

Both combatants rose to their feet again and faced each other with hatred in their eyes.

"Really? You think brute force is going to work on me?" Rena scoffed.

A wicked scowl on his lips, Rafa dropped into a boxing stance and replied, "It'll work magnificently by the time I've worn you down. I hate to burst your precious little bubble where only you and your moronic 'senpai' are allowed in, but I feel no pain."

"Well, how about _this_ for pain?" Rena spun to her right and leaped into the air with a flying back roundhouse kick aimed at Rafa's face.

Rafa did nothing, save for holding out his right arm in the path of her kick. He effectively blocked her attack, but the sheer force behind it knocked him to the left and sent a tremor of pain down the entirety of his arm. Ignoring her failed attack, Rena set foot on the ground and delivered two rapid karate punches to Rafa's throat. The vulpine gasped for air and attempted to halt her barrage of attacks by performing an uncoordinated front kick that he hoped would strike something other than air.

Rena read through his attack and sidestepped it, then swept her right leg behind Rafa's knee and kicked at the back of the joint. His knee collapsed immediately. Using the momentum of her falling opponent, Rena shoved him towards the pavement and delivered a punch to his muzzle at ground level. Rafa snarled like a wild animal and thrashed, but Rena pressed one of her knees into his chest while pinning his arms to the ground.

With her opponent unable to retaliate, Rena flashed him a sadistic smile and asked, "So, feel any pain yet?"

"Not nearly as much as you will when I'm done with you," Rafa muttered through clenched teeth.

As much as Rena tried to keep his limbs pinned down, the larger fox overpowered her and pushed his arms up. When Rena lost her left hand grip on his arm, Rafa punched her in the chest and shoved her out of the way.

While Rafa rose to his feet again, Rena yipped and rolled over on the pavement. Then, she noticed her enemy's dropped handgun lying on the ground twenty feet away from her. On her hands and knees, she clawed her way to the weapon, but not before Rafa noticed what she intended to do.

With one giant lunge, she dove for the handgun and rolled over in time to see Rafa bearing down on her, fists at the ready. She gripped the weapon with both hands and aimed in Rafa's general direction, then pulled the trigger as many times as she possibly could in a span of two seconds. Five gunshots echoed through the air. All of them hit their target—three in Rafa's chest, and two in his stomach.

Rafa came to a dead stop five feet in front of Rena. He watched in horror as blood dripped out from his wounds. Clutching at his chest, he whimpered in pain. Rena refrained from celebrating, as a part of her hated what she had just done to her former teammate.

But then, Rafa pulled his hand away from his chest and laughed maniacally. As with the damage caused by Rena's shuriken, the bullet wounds closed up on their own, and his bleeding stopped. While Rena stared at him with terror in her eyes—an extreme rarity for her—he chuckled, "You really thought it was going to be that easy? HA HA HA! By now, you should have realized that I'm not stupid enough to pick a fight with you unless I've got a few aces up my sleeve. When I threatened to fight you, you should have taken it as a warning and run away; but no—you ever-so-arrogantly declared that I had no chance against you, as I predicted.

Rena shuffled backwards on the ground, holding Rafa's gun in her suddenly trembling hands. "B…But, how?"

"Nanomachines," Rafa answered with a grin.

Rena's eyes transitioned from fear to intense anger. "Oh, not more farking nanomachines! You've got to be kidding me!"

"I _am_ kidding," said Rafa. "It's not nanomachines—but I am not at liberty to discuss the true secret of my new powers. Classified information, you know."

"You know what's going to be classified in a few minutes?" Rena snapped, "You are! Specifically, you're going to be classified as Grade A Prime because I'm going to chop you into so many pieces that you'll end up in the meat market instead of the morgue!"

Cocking his head, Rafa crossed his arms and replied, "Strong words coming from a 'hero.' I'm impressed."

"Oh ho no—I'm no hero," Rena affirmed, narrowing her eyes. "I'm a villain for hire, and I only work for the best. I'm sure you realized that by now."

"The first part may be true, but you most certainly do not work for 'the best.' If that were true, you'd have ditched your idiotic 'senpai' a long time ago. You know what? I have a secret about him that he'd never tell you, and I'm feeling charitable today, so now you'll get to know."

With a completely deadpan expression, Rena muttered, "What's this deep, dark secret of yours?"

Pausing for a moment, Rafa sneered and then answered, "Back in his high school days, your 'dear leader' was gay for Wolf O'Donnell—the owner of Anthracite Security. I have his word for it that every day after high school let out, he would meet up with Wolf in an abandoned shed near the school and get it on. No one ever found out—except me, because he told me about it."

Rena's face remained devoid of any perceivable emotions. "You do realize that means literally nothing to me, right? For all I know, Wolf was probably a better choice for him than that latex-obsessed pinup that he's dating right now. I bet she probably drinks her own reproductive juices as a hobby."

* * *

 _Meanwhile, back in Scarlet's apartment in Corneria City…_

[REDACTED]

* * *

"What?" Rafa snapped. "You mean that Fox's fling with Wolf doesn't shock and horrify you?"

"Nope. In fact, it's hilarious that you expected it to bother me. But what I _really_ think is that you just read too much bad fanfiction and made up that story on your own. Now, enough banter already. I think I'm finally warmed up." Wiping her mouth with the back of her hand, she lowered herself into a combat stance.

Rafa matched her movements, his cocky, unfailing grin still plastered all over his lips.

This time, Rena made the first move. She took a quick step towards him, then directed a rapid left-handed chop at his neck. Rafa blocked the attack while simultaneously launching a powerful roundhouse kick with his dominant leg. Showcasing her reflexes, Rena recovered from her blocked attack and countered Rafa's roundhouse with her own left-footed kick that slammed into his leg several inches above his knee and stretched his leg too far for his comfort.

Rafa tried to find his footing, but stumbled and fell backwards when he found himself forced into a full split by Rena's attack. As he fell, Rena took the opportunity to use one of the Kitanai Sagi-Shi Warrior Clan's most feared and loathed techniques—the groin kick.

Rafa howled and crashed to the ground, grabbing his manhood in a desperate attempt to keep himself from being sterilized by Rena's boot. The lithe vixen saw a window of opportunity to cripple her enemy while he was down and jumped into the air, aiming to slam the sole of her boot down on Rafa's muzzle.

In the nick of time, Rafa pulled his head to the left and avoided her face-destroying kick. His entire physique still wracked by his throbbing testicles, he frantically grabbed Rena's leg in hopes of neutralizing her for long enough to allow himself to get back on his feet again. His fingers caught on the top of one of her socks and pulled it down, throwing Rena off balance.

"Get off me, you pervert!" The yellow vixen shrieked, kicking out her legs while falling to the ground. One of her boots caught Rafa in the face, prompting an angry grunt from the larger vulpine. She rolled over and jumped to her feet in the blink of an eye, but still managed to leave enough time for Rafa to pick himself off the ground.

Panting from exertion, Rena hiked her socks up and sized up her enemy, who—despite having been shot five times, ninja starred, groin kicked, and generally thrashed in the fight thus far—seemed hardly the worse for wear. At that moment, she considered the increasing possibility that she would not be able to outlast him.

She took a quick glance at her surroundings. The downed police chopper continued to smolder nearby, while in the distance, the sound of sirens echoed through the industrial district. At the moment when she felt that all hope was gone, she saw a faint glimmer of it returning, inching closer with the approaching sirens that she hoped belonged to a pack of police cars.

To her surprise, Rafa grinned and said, "Looks like you're running out of time."

Rena could have practically shot fire out of her nostrils. " _I'm_ running out of time? Ha! Get ready for your orange jumpsuit fitting when the cops come for you, buddy!"

Stepping forward in preparation for an attack, Rafa replied, "Don't expect it to work out like that." Then, he surprised Rena by stepping into a rapid tornado kick with so much power behind it that she saw no way to block it without sustaining a massive bruise at the very least.

She took a nimble leap backwards, avoiding Rafa's kick by the narrowest of margins. She moved to retaliate, but Rafa refused to let his failed attack deter him. Landing with his right leg forward, he pushed off with his opposite leg and pummeled Rena in the chest with a basic front kick.

Rena yelped and fell backwards, but recovered with an agile back somersault and stood up again in less than two seconds. All the while, the police sirens continued to bear down on the scene of the helicopter crash.

Taking a quick look to her left, Rena watched as three vehicles came into view—a red fire truck, a motorcycle, and a police sports car that looked to the going significantly faster than the other vehicles. In fact, it appeared to be traveling over 200 kilometers per hour.

Rena's nerves twitched when she noticed Rafa backing away from her. Something felt wrong. Then, she realized what it was. The lone police car continued to pull away from the fire truck and the sport bike, picking up even more speed in the process. Instead of slowing to a stop in front of the burning helicopter, the low-slung coupe raced towards the scene of the accident—specifically, towards her.

At that moment, she realized that there may as well have been a giant target painted on her tank top. The car closed in on her in the blink of an eye; and only when a hundred feet separated it from Rena did its driver slam on the brakes.

"Oh, fark!"

Cursing her short legs and general lack of stature, she leaped upwards as the police car sped through the space where she had previously been standing. Her own jumping ability surprised even her, but it was not enough for her to avoid clipping the light bar on the top of the squad car. The impact ripped the lights off the top of the car, and a corner of the reinforced plastic strip dug into her bare stomach.

Screaming, she flew through the air and landed on her already-bloodied back. The scalding black pavement seared her skin, amplifying the pain from the shrapnel in her abdomen. Feeling like a rag doll, she rolled onto her side and watched as the police car—a curvaceous, black and white two door coupe with a snake emblem on the rear trunklid—came to a complete stop next to Rafa, who sprinted around the vehicle and jumped into the passenger's seat. Then, the police car sped off, leaving two trails of burnt rubber in its wake as it roared towards the freeway overpass farther down the road.

With her enemy gone and her body covered in shattered plastic, bruises, and blood, she burst into tears and cried until her vision became too blurry to see the police car as it sped off. She heard the fire truck and the motorcycle approaching her, but her grief prevented most of the sound from registering to her.

Then, the high-pitched roar of the motorcycle descended into a quiet idle. The bike's rider stopped next to her; and with a concerned voice, asked, "Rena, are you okay?"

Wiping her eyes, Rena sat up and saw a familiar black-clothed jackal standing over her.

"Lucas?" she whimpered.

Noticing the full extent of her injuries, Lucas gazed at her worriedly and exclaimed, "Whoa—you need medical attention. Here, let me help you up…"

"…No!" Rena snarled. "What I need is to put a bullet through that turd Rafa's ugly head!"

"Rena—you're bleeding all over the place and you just bounced off a car going over eighty miles an hour," Lucas countered. "You really don't look good right now."

The yellow vixen slowly pushed herself off the ground, only to find that putting weight on her right leg created a pins and needles sensation that shot through her entire body. Dropping all of her weight on her other leg, she hobbled towards Lucas and muttered, "Tell me something I don't know. Right now, the only thing I'm concerned about is finishing off that little piece of…"

"…I get it," Lucas replied. "But seriously—I don't want you to die."

"Aw, that's cute," Rena scoffed, although said scoff made it painfully clear to Lucas that it was merely an attempt to mask the agony of her multiple wounds. "Listen, pal: if you're going after Rafa, I'm coming with you. You can check me into a hospital after he's dead. Got it?"

Lucas paused for a moment before he let out a heavy sigh. Then, he pointed to his bike and took a step towards it. "Fine. Get on behind me. Oh—and while you're at it, hold this for me. You can use it to shoot your buddy when we catch up to him." He reached for a holster on his hip and drew a machine pistol with a laughably long magazine, which he handed to Rena.

Taking the weapon, Rena scowled her way through the pain that engulfed her entire body and replied, "Good. Let's do this."


	25. The Chase, Act 2

**Arc V: Executive Protection**

 _Part 5: The Chase – Act 2_

Hartmann grimaced in pain as he cranked the wheel to the right, pursuing the fleeing nun into a side street that required both drivers to brake rapidly. The van skidded around the corner, its front right wheel lifting off the ground for a brief moment.

His bleeding shoulder continued to give him grief, and both he and Fox knew that he needed immediate medical attention. Nevertheless, catching the President's would-be-assassin mattered more to Hartmann than his own health at this point.

The narrow side street wedged between a cluster of warehouses ended with an intersection that spat the two speeding vehicles out on an eight-lane road with a moderate amount of traffic. Undeterred by the number of vehicles on the road, the nun guided her car into a gentle left hand turn and sped towards a massive overpass a quarter mile up the road. Practically riding the nun's damaged rear bumper, Hartmann noticed a highway on-ramp lane on the right side of the road, two hundred feet before the bridge.

The nun dove for the onramp, screaming past two other cars by driving on the road's dirt-covered shoulder and creating a cloud of dust in the process. Hartmann kept after her and skirted the pedestrian traffic, but the nun still managed to gain an advantage. She began to pull away as the onramp transitioned into the extreme right hand lane of a massive interstate highway, complete with no fewer than five lanes of travel.

As the blue compact merged into traffic, its driver kept the gas pedal pegged against the floorboards. The car's diminutive size proved to be an advantage and allowed it to weave through all five lanes with surprisingly little effort. This boded well for the nun, but not for Hartmann, whose blood red shoulder continued to distract him. He looked for an opening to merge into traffic and continue the pursuit, but the sheer volume of cars around him prevented him from doing much of anything.

Finally, he slammed his hands against the steering wheel and shouted, "Fox—you're going to have to take the wheel! I can't handle this anymore! Take your seatbelt off and get ready to jump into the driver's seat!"

Fox balked. "Wait—what?"

Not bothering to say another word, Hartmann made sure that the steering wheel was pointed straight ahead and then unclipped his seatbelt. He then dove over the center console and landed in the rear cargo area with a soft 'thud.' Realizing that he had no choice but to act, Fox clambered out of his seat and snaked his legs over the center console, being careful not to catch the bottom of the steering wheel with his boots and send the van flipping out of control.

With a deep breath, he dropped into the driver's seat and clicked on his seatbelt.

"Thanks, Fox," said Hartmann from the back of the van. "I'll be right back up there—I've just got to wrap up this arm first. Keep after that nun!"

"Got it," Fox replied.

Far ahead in the distance, he saw the nun's blue compact speeding away while swerving through traffic. Seeing his target beginning to slip away infuriated him. For him and Hartmann to have come this far only to lose their target—that was unacceptable. Not only that, but as a secondary goal, he wanted to uncover the nun's identity. He had a sneaking suspicion that he knew who she—or possibly _he_ —was.

Finally spotting a hole in traffic, Fox floored the gas pedal and honked his horn. The van responded to his movements slowly, but with a 300-horsepower engine under the hood, it began picking up speed. Much of the interstate traffic barreled along at seventy miles an hour, but Fox knew that he would need to move more quickly than that if he wanted to catch the nun. He had to avoid the traffic entirely to have a chance.

Then, an idea occurred to him. Taking advantage of a small gap in traffic in the far left lane, he swerved onto the unmarked pavement between the solid white line and the six-foot-tall concrete median a few feet to the left of it. The 'lane' barely accommodated the van, but it would have to do. Fox kept his foot planted to the floor, accelerating to over a hundred miles an hour. The van's speedometer only went up to 120, and Fox had a feeling that he had almost topped out. Even in a straight line, the rear end of the van became squirrely, and every bump in the pavement threatened to jolt the vehicle either back into traffic or into the concrete wall to his left.

Yet, his plan seemed to be working.

Up until he saw the unthinkable—a stranded car parked on the unmarked pavement, exactly a quarter mile ahead.

He glanced to his right in hopes of finding an open lane, but closely-packed traffic kept it on lockdown. He knew he would have to act quickly to avoid slamming into the parked car up ahead. Flicking his right blinker and blaring his horn again, he hit the brakes to slow himself to highway speeds and slowly pulled to the right. The maroon wagon immediately to his right refused to move. When Fox looked frantically at the driver, he realized why. The wagon's driver—a young opossum woman—had her visor down and a mascara applicator in her hand. Virtually oblivious to everything around her, she dotted her eyelashes with a brush while occasionally glancing at the pavement ahead of her.

The parked car loomed large in Fox's sights. No time.

Fox gritted his teeth and avoided looking to his right, as he already knew what would happen. He pulled the steering wheel to the right, ramming the maroon wagon in the driver's side door and shoving it out of the lane. The distracted opossum panicked at the wheel and dropped her mascara. She gripped the wheel and tried to force her way back into the stolen lane, but thanks to her prior distraction, she lost her bearings. Her feeble attempt to regain control had the opposite effect. She careened into a large luxury SUV to her right and then spun back to the left, where her car was rammed by an armored security truck that lacked the ability to stop in time to avoid hitting her. The wagon barrel rolled down the freeway and came to rest on its roof. Behind Fox and Hartmann's van, traffic came to a virtual standstill.

After the collision with the wagon, Hartmann popped up from the back of the van and demanded, "What the _hell_ was that?"

"Car was parked on the left median and I had to get over," Fox gasped, using as few words as possible. "I hope that lady's okay."

Now with a freshly-applied wrap on his shoulder, the dyed husky vaulted into the passenger's seat and looked in the rear view mirror. He saw the rolled wagon as it began to shrink in the distance behind them. "Dammit! My insurance is going to have to pay for that!"

"As if all the things you did earlier hadn't already made that a given," Fox retorted. "You know—like ramming two police cars and getting your rear bumper torn off by a freight train?"

Hartmann gave Fox an evil, dark scowl. "I'd punch you, but I've got to keep my blood pressure as low as possible so that I don't bleed out. Where's the nun?"

Fox squinted and tried peering around the cars surrounding him while ignoring the numerous middle fingers being directed at him by the other drivers. He spotted the nun's blue car, over three hundred yards ahead at this point. Shaking his head, he told Hartmann, "She's still pulling away. How much longer are we going to have to deal with this damn traffic?"

Hartmann pulled his military-grade phone out of his pocket and opened a GPS app. He stared at the screen for a number of seconds, then answered, "There's only one more exit left until the highway reaches Lake Abrugarvo. There's a huge bridge that crosses the lake, and there's not much of anything on the other side. Traffic should clear before long. Just stay as close behind the nun as you can."

Fox nodded in response. Although he feared that he would find himself hit with a rapid case of déjà vu, he pulled the van onto the left shoulder and stomped on the gas. This time, the 'lane' ahead looked clear apart from small chunks of rubber created by eviscerated semi-truck tires. The cars to his right began falling behind, although the nun's vehicle still seemed to be pulling away up ahead.

Then, Fox noticed an overhead electronic highway sign. In bright yellow digital print, it read, "Bridge Closed Ahead – All Traffic Exit."

No sooner had he seen it than the traffic to his right came to a virtual crawl as the rush to merge into the two right lanes began. Fox raced past rows upon rows of gridlocked cars, speeding by at such a rate that they seemed like blurs. He held the wheel with white knuckles, realizing that the slightest miscue could send him into the back end of a stopped car and kill both him and Hartmann.

After passing a half mile of slow-moving vehicles, Fox laid eyes on the reason for the traffic exiting. While all five lanes of traffic attempted to wedge into the two exit lanes, two police cars sat in the center of the highway, positioned behind a barricade of barrel-shaped cones that looked to have been hastily set down. But two other details stood out to him: the completely open road beyond the parked police cars—and the nun's blue compact that continued to speed down it. Holding the gas pedal to the floor, Fox raced past the police barricade on the left median. At the exact same time, one of the two police cars activated its siren and accelerated from a standstill.

Looking in his rearview mirror at the police car, Hartmann cursed and slammed his hands against the dashboard. "Dammit! Not this again!"

"What am I supposed to do here?" Fox shouted. "We can't let that nun get away!"

Hartmann clutched at his head and growled, "I don't know what to do! But wait—why is the bridge closed on a Friday afternoon, of all times?"

The pursuing police car's siren grew louder behind them, the vehicle's superior engine and lighter weight allowing it to catch up with the van at a frightening speed. But then, the cruiser raced past on the right, ignoring Hartmann's van in favor of the blue car that looked more like a tiny blue dot on the horizon than a car by now.

"No way," Hartmann gasped. "Fox—the cops actually got your memo! They're going after the assassin! In fact…"

"What is it?" Fox demanded.

"They've probably set up a roadblock just for her."

Without any traffic to impede him, Fox merged back onto the main part of the highway, keeping his foot to the floor all the while. The van's speedometer crept above 110, but Fox realized that no matter how much power the van had, a proverbial barn at any speed was still a barn door.

The distance between the van and the nun's car remained unchanged, but the police cruiser that had passed them began to gain ground on the compact. On both sides of the highway, the buildings and palm trees that had formerly lined it gave way to a wide open view of the desert that lurked outside the metropolis. Off to the right, Fox and Hartmann noticed the vast Lake Abrugarvo attempting to cut into said desert.

Up ahead, the Lake Abrugarvo suspension bridge loomed large, its blue-painted supports glowing in the sunlight. The tall concrete median blocked Fox's view of the traffic on the other side, giving the impression of an empty highway. The nun still maintained a commanding lead over the van, but as it cleared the first quarter of the bridge, her car's engine made a sickening shuddering noise and began spewing white smoke from the exhaust.

The blue compact lost speed, allowing the lone police car to gain ground on it even more rapidly than before. Fox kept his foot down. For the first time in minutes, he felt confident that the nun would be stopped. Up ahead in the distance, both Fox and Hartmann spotted a line of police cars—along with a yellow ambulance positioned on the left side of the road—stretching across the entirety of the highway, aligned front to back with only two feet separating each of them. Six armed officers stood in front of them. If the nun wanted to clear the roadblock, there was no way to do it apart from ramming the police cars and crippling her already-sputtering vehicle.

As the nun's car neared the roadblock, the police car tailing her backed off, not wanting to create a potential fiasco when there remained no option for her except to stop and surrender. Still, the nun refused to slow down. With white smoke billowing from the back, the compact blazed towards the line of police cruisers at ninety miles an hour.

Even from two hundred fifty yards behind, Fox and Hartmann felt the police officers' panic. All of them darted off to the side, diving for the ground in a frantic attempt to avoid being run over by the crazed nun. Then, at the last possible second, the nun jerked her steering wheel hard to the right. The blue compact slammed into the low concrete wall bordering the right shoulder and vaulted into the air. The car barrel rolled off the bridge and soared into the open air above the lake, threading the needle between two of the bridge's support beams. While the police officers and the two mercenaries watched with mouths agape, the nun threw her door open and leaped out of the car as it plummeted towards the water below.

Then, both she and her vehicle disappeared from sight.

Fox hit the brakes and slowed the van to a stop fifty feet in front of the police roadblock. Turning the vehicle off, he and Hartmann leaped out and sprinted towards the edge of the bridge. Both of them looked over the side. Below, all that remained was the large wake created by the nun's car when it splashed down; and to its left, a smaller set of ripples stood out. Fox and Hartmann waited for over a minute to see if the nun would surface, but to their discomfort and dismay, she never did.

As if reading Hartmann's mind, Fox asked, "What's that supposed to mean?"

With the chase over, Hartmann's heart rate dropped to a more reasonable level. However, his adrenaline began to leave his system as well, amplifying the pain in his arm. "I don't know," he winced. "It's a least a seventy foot drop to the water. That would kill anyone. That's not to say that no one could _possibly_ survive a fall like that, but it's really unlikely. Damn—my arm hurts!"

As they looked over the side of the bridge, an iguana police officer approached them with his hands behind his back. When Fox and Hartmann turned around, the lizard offered his hand to both of them and introduced himself. "I'm Supervisor Grzeskiewicz," he said.

"I bet that's spelled a lot differently than how it's pronounced," Hartmann commented.

"Well, you'd be correct," Grzeskiewicz confirmed. "I'd like to apologize for the problems you had with my men near the auditorium. It was all moving so fast—we hardly had time to respond after what happened at the President's rally. I really want to thank you, though. Your phone call got us on the right track. If you hadn't done anything, the assassin would have made a clean break."

"Speaking of the assassin," Fox replied, "You're going to drag the lake, right?"

Grzeskiewicz nodded his head. "Absolutely. I don't see how anyone could expect to live through a fall like that, but when we're dealing with something this important, we're not going to leave a single stone unturned."

Letting out another grunt of pain, Hartmann asked, "Do you know if the President is okay?"

"As far as I know, the Secret Service got her out of the auditorium safely. I'm not completely sure, though."

"If that's all you know, so be it," Fox replied.

At that point, the sound of an approaching helicopter reverberated through the air to the right of the bridge as a police chopper hovered over Lake Abrugarvo and began scanning the surface of the water for any signs of life. Fox, Hartmann, and Supervisor Grzeskiewicz all glanced at the helicopter for a moment, but their attention soon turned to Hartmann's bandaged shoulder. The previously-white cloth had been stained solid red.

"Here—get in the ambulance, and the paramedics will take care of you from there," said Grzeskiewicz, placing a hand on Hartmann's good shoulder.

"Thanks," the painted husky groaned. Trying to control his breathing, he lumbered across the asphalt towards the large yellow vehicle. But then, his sensitive ears picked up on something coming towards them. He looked to his left, in the direction of the distant metropolis, and saw a tiny black and white speck hurtling towards the police roadblock. "What's that?" he asked Grzeskiewicz.

The iguana stopped and narrowed his large eyes. "That's the other police car that was supposed to stay at the exit. I have no idea what he's doing. Hold on—give me a second." Reaching for his belt, he pulled out a walky-talky, raised it to the level of his lips, and pressed a button on the side. "Unit 24, what are you doing? You're supposed to stay at the exit and divert the highway traffic."

"I _am_ at the exit!" the police officer affirmed. _"_ One of the interceptors just tore through here at almost 180 miles an hour with a motorcycle behind it! Are you aware of any of this?!"

"No," said Grzeskiewicz, his face assuming a pallid green coloration. He watched as the speeding interceptor grew closer, approaching at a dizzying rate. In that moment, his brain froze. But his gut told him what he needed to do next.

"Move one of the cars!" he roared, turning towards the roadblock.

One of the other officers on the bridge nodded feverishly and jumped into the cruiser in the center of the bridge. With the police cars positioned so closely together, he struggled to break out of the roadblock without bumping into one of the other cars. But then, he looked to his left and saw the interceptor closing in on the roadblock; and to make matters worse, its speed had not diminished in the least.

Terrified, the officer shoved his foot to the floor and broke out of the roadblock, ramming the police car in front of him in the process. A mere second later, the interceptor raced through the open gap in the roadblock. Three seconds after that, a blood red motorcycle followed it through the block before it—along with the interceptor—became little more than speeding dots in the distance.

Wide-eyed, Fox watched the two vehicles disappear from sight and wondered, _"Was that Rena on the back of that bike?"_

* * *

 _-_ § _-_

* * *

On the back of the bike, Rena circled her arms around Lucas's torso and hung on for dear life with her borrowed machine pistol held in her dominant left hand. On the entirely clear road, Lucas accelerated his motorcycle to its factory limited top speed of 180 miles an hour. Nevertheless, the overpowered police interceptor continued to put more and more ground between it and its pursuers. Other issues concerned Rena and Lucas as well—namely, their lack of helmets. Then again, those would have a snowball's chance in hell of saving them in the event of a high-speed crash.

The wind noise proved to be deafening, forcing Rena to lean forward and scream into Lucas's ear to communicate with him. "How are we supposed to catch up? That farking car is too fast!"

Lucas looked over his shoulder and shouted back, "The road drops two lanes and starts winding in about five miles! We'll catch them in the turns!"

Rena took him at his words and avoided straining her vocal chords any further. Still holding onto Lucas's hoodie for support, she watched the scenery race past. With the bridge cleared, the road ahead gradually became narrower, dropping one lane immediately after the bridge and losing another after three more miles. The terrain was flat, but up ahead, Rena saw a vast array of canyons and rocky outcroppings. The road did not diverge on account of them. Rather, it appeared to snake directly through the rock formations, gaining altitude in the process.

The sun continued to sink in the afternoon sky. Near the horizon, its rays painted the copper-colored sands on the sides of the road a brilliant shade of dark red. The desert highway sped over a short overpass that marked the first exit after the Abrugarvo suspension bridge. Traffic re-entered the highway from there, although the number of cars was so minimal that Lucas made no attempt at slowing down.

Despite traveling at three miles per minute, Lucas lost sight of the fleeing police interceptor. He said nothing to Rena, but he desperately hoped that the car had not taken the exit. Thanks to the light traffic, he pulled onto the right shoulder to avoid having to weave between cars on the road, which had now dropped to only two lanes in each direction of travel. Accompanying the narrowing road, the pavement began sloping upwards. The flat deserts on the sides of the road gave way to steep red rock walls and outcroppings. As Lucas had predicted, curves overtook the long, monotonous straightaways that had previously defined it.

Knowing that the police interceptor could only carry so much speed on the curvy roads, Lucas pushed his driving skills to the limit, diving into 45-mile per hour turns at over ninety. The traffic remained light and offered him little resistance, yet Lucas halfway wished that more cars had been on the roads. If that had been the case, the fleeing interceptor would have had more obstructions to deal with than he would. His motorcycle's exhaust note echoed against the canyon walls as the road climbed further upwards.

A concrete median arose to take the place of the simple double yellow line that had previously separated the mountainous highway. This alerted Lucas to the presence of upcoming sharp turns, as the winding road would prove potentially lethal to truck drivers heading down the mountain towards Abrugarvo. Hence the need for a strong central barrier.

Lucas sped past a yellow sign on the right warning of upcoming switchbacks. He grinned. Now was the chance to make up significant ground on the police car. Spotting the first corner—a sharp right-hander—he swung the bike all the way out to the left edge of the pavement and then shot towards the opposite side of the road, cutting off a car in the right lane in the process. He ignored the driver's infuriated horn blast and pulled through the corner at twice the legal limit, then set himself up for the upcoming left-hand bend that pulled even farther uphill.

After that point, the road straightened and leveled out. Dead ahead was a towering desert cliff; and built into the side, a tunnel. At the edge of his vision, he saw the white and black police car as it sped into the darkened shaft. Rena continued to hold onto his ribcage. By now, he had come to feel the pain of her grasp as nothing more than a mildly annoying ache.

He kept his right hand cranked back and plunged into the tunnel at full speed. To avoid the few pedestrian vehicles in front of him, he skirted the right side of the road, coming within mere feet of the metal railings that flanked the tunnel's side walkways. Inside the shaft, his motorcycle's already-loud engine erupted into a brazen scream; but even above the noise, he heard the muscular howl of the interceptor's 650-horsepower V10 engine up ahead. The tunnel's lights flashed by as if part of a sadistic strobe display at a concert of maniacal speed.

The tunnel gradually curved to the right, forcing Lucas to lean his handlebars to within inches of the right side rails in order to hold the corner. Once the shallow turn ended, he shot out into the empty right hand lane only to find that the police car was only a hundred feet ahead.

"Rena! Get ready!" he shouted, hoping that she would somehow hear him inside the deafening echo chamber.

The interceptor swerved into the left hand lane to avoid a slow-moving van on the right, but lost speed in the process. Lucas began closing the gap at the same time that the light from the other side of the tunnel began flooding in. A brilliant wash of white overwhelmed them for a moment, then the view of the tunnel ended in favor of a winding road overlooking a breathtaking desert valley.

Lucas pulled his bike to within fifty feet of the interceptor's rear bumper. Sensing the opportunity at hand, Rena drew Lucas's assault pistol and tried to aim it in the general direction of the fleeing car. Her first instinct was to try to shoot Rafa through the back window, because she had a feeling that even if she managed to make the car crash, Rafa would somehow find a way to survive. After all, he had taken five bullets in the chest earlier and walked away as though nothing had happened.

The wind, the insane speed of the chase, and the winding roads themselves conspired to keep Rena from being able to line up her sights. Having her immediate vision blocked by Lucas did nothing to help her, either. Her hand trembling as she struggled to aim and hold onto the gun at the same time, she finally felt ready to pull the trigger.

Suddenly, the police car's brake lights flashed. Lucas swerved wildly to the left, nearly throwing Rena off. In the process, the yellow vixen dropped the gun and reached for Lucas to prevent herself from falling onto the pavement and being shredded to pieces. The police car dropped back, and it only took a matter of seconds for Rena and Lucas to figure out why.

A hail of rapid-fire bullets erupted from the right side of the police car, now thirty feet behind them. Lucas dove to the right as hot lead riddled the pavement around him. He shot in front of an RV in the right hand lane, forcing the larger vehicle to take the brunt of the attack.

Realizing that he had to fall in behind the police car again, he slammed on his brakes and skidded to a virtual standstill on the side of the road. The interceptor rocketed off again and disappeared over a quick hill in an upcoming left hand turn. Lucas prepared to pick up speed and pursue the interceptor again, but when he happened to look over his shoulder, his heart sank. "Did you drop the gun?" he asked Rena.

The yellow vixen's ears dropped, and she looked to be on the verge of breaking into angry tears. "Yeah."

"It's okay. We can go back and…" Lucas's eyes scanned the road behind them for the discarded weapon, only to see a massive tanker truck drive over it with an appalling crunch. "…Well, I guess not."

Crossing her arms, Rena hunched her back and stared at the ground while seated on the motorcycle behind Lucas. The realization that stopping Rafa and his car was all but impossible hit her at the same time that the pain in her right leg flared up again. Wincing, she sighed and gingerly climbed off Lucas's motorcycle, then limped across the winding two-lane road and leaned on the guardrail overlooking the vast desert at the bottom of the mountain. A half mile away, a twin-rotor helicopter rested on the dark orange sands, its rotors churning up a storm of dust. From the distance, Rena failed to make out any identifying marks or insignias with which to place it.

That question answered itself when the police interceptor came into view and sped across the flat desert in the direction of the chopper. Within seconds, the car came to a stop. Two figures—Rafa and his accomplice, who looked to be a large, white-furred ursine—leaped out, then sprinted into the large helicopter's opened rear cargo door.

The door closed soon afterwards, and the chopper lifted off. As it turned and began traveling farther away from the already-distant city, Rena flattened her ears in rage and roared at the top of her lungs, hurling a metaphorical flock of 'birds' at the fleeing helicopter.

* * *

 _-_ § _-_

* * *

Onboard the helicopter, Rafa brushed off his pants before taking a seat on one of the side-mounted crew benches inside. His comrade who had been driving the car—a massive polar bear wearing a fake police uniform—plopped down onto the bench opposite him and let out a sigh of relief. The chopper's pilots continued guiding the vehicle away from Abrugarvo. Within a matter of minutes, they would be far enough from the city to avoid the possibility of the Titanian Air Force sending a team of fighters after them.

In spite of his escape, a furious scowl covered Rafa's muzzle. He glared at the wall on the other side of the chopper as if angry at an invisible something.

"What's wrong, Commander?" the polar bear asked, opening his hands.

"You know perfectly well what's wrong, mi amigo," Rafa growled. "Sure—we got away, but President Vinca is still alive, which means that our plan to help Senator del Rio get elected in her place and forge an alliance with us and Macbeth is shot to hell. And guess whose fault that is?" He paused, clenched his fists, and then slammed them down on the faux leather bench. "It's _her_ fault! You know what, Desmond? I am absolutely _sick_ of that woman! All she's done so far is fail; and even when I tried to send her on suicide missions like this one, she not only manages to fail, but she survives anyway! "

The polar bear crossed his arms, partially to look tough, but also because Rafa's anger put him on edge. "That's true, but she's the one with the deep pockets we need to keep our operation going and to fund the weapons that will give us the upper hand on the Cornerians."

"Yeah—too bad she blatantly refuses to fund my nuclear project. She must be stupid to think we can win this war without a reasonable deterrent. At this point, I'm sick of her trying to chaperone me by forcing herself into my operations."

"Still," Desmond replied, "She has the money."

"Not if I have anything to do with it," Rafa rasped, his teeth showing. "She's blood—if she dies, her money becomes my money. Her entire fortune should be mine _right now,_ but of course she had to stay alive somehow. Wait…you know what, Desmond? I have an idea."

"I'm listening," said the polar bear.

"Since the one thing she seems to be good at is tracking targets, and because she seems to have a thing for Corneria's mercenary golden boy, I think I'll kill two birds with one stone."

"How so?"

"I'll send her on her final mission: track Fox McCloud to his next location, separate him from his team, kidnap him, and then take him to a location of my choosing, which I will have rigged to blow, just like at Northpoint. Oh, the irony. And to think that the Northpoint strike was her idea to begin with. Poetic justice, don't you think?"

"It's a decent plan," Desmond admitted. "However, you do realize that it's not going to be that easy to fool her. If you really plan to kill her, she'll see straight through you."

Rafa replied with a dismissive hand wave. "Relax, mi amigo. My mind is far stronger than it used to be. I am confident that she will not see my motives in this. Once she is dead, I will inherit the rest of the Ortega family's fortune and start funneling some of that money to things that matter, such as our nuclear program. Oh—and of course, I wouldn't want to forget about the genetic warfare project, either. I'm sure you'll be quite thrilled about that."

The polar bear across from him cracked a sinister smile. "Oh, indeed."


	26. World News Tonight

**Arc V: Executive Protection**

 _Part 6: World News Tonight_

Fox fidgeted on the budget couch in a hospital waiting room back in the metropolis of Abrugarvo. Thanks to it being a busy night, over fifteen people sat in the waiting area. Miyu and Slippy sat to Fox's right, while Vincent and Xavier occupied two small chairs to the left. Notably, Xavier had ditched his wig and fake breasts, electing to represent his birth gender instead. No one in the group said much of anything. In spite of President Vinca's assassination attempt being thwarted, the mission felt like a hollow victory. Sure, they would be paid for their services, but the damages from the mission almost negated the monetary gains. The President's would-be-assassin had yet to be found, leading Fox to wonder if she had managed to survive the fall from the Lake Abrugarvo Bridge and then evade the police search crew sent to find her.

Not only that, but the extent of Rena and Hartmann's injuries deflated both teams. Hospital staff determined that Rena had fractured a bone in her leg, and the sheer amount of blood Hartmann had lost during the pursuit of the nun put him on death's doorstep. Both had been listed as being in stable condition for the time being, but that was not enough to prevent their teammates from worrying about them.

On the waiting room's back wall, a flatscreen television played a live TNN (Titanian News Network) broadcast of the most pressing news from around the world. With nothing else to do and no interest in speaking to his teammates, Fox focused on the screen and listened to the report, which was underpinned by a red banner with white print that read 'Macbeth Weapon Talks Begin.'

Onscreen, a female macaw wearing a news-worthy red jacket announced, _"Today, representatives from Corneria, West Fortuna, and Zoness met with officials of the Imperial State of Macbeth to discuss the ongoing sale of weapons to the insurgent West Fortunan rebel forces. The allied countries have threatened to levy crippling sanctions on the Imperial government unless their demands are met. The list of demands includes the immediate and unconditional end of all weapon sales to East Fortuna and the release of Dr. Andross Bowman to the Cornerian Department of Internal Security."_

Upon hearing Andross's name, all of the mercenaries' ears perked up.

" _Daniel Carrington, the premier of Imperial Macbeth, has repeatedly stated that the demands are unreasonable and represent an attempt at further diminishing his country's influence. He also vehemently declared that Dr. Bowman has never worked with them, and that if he had been aware of his presence, Bowman would have been forcibly removed from the country. Now, for more analysis, I'm going to turn it over to my colleague, Mal Spitzer. Mal? What's your take on this?"_

The screen bifurcated, moving the image of the macaw to the left while a slender, middle-aged malamute dog appeared on the right. He wore a basic black suit and thick-rimmed glasses that gave him an intellectual air. _"Thank you, Sandy,"_ he said, _"The collective discussion about Macbeth's weapons had been going on for months, but this is the first time that Dr. Bowman's name has been brought up. For those of you who aren't familiar with him, he was a former Cornerian scientist who was arrested for 'unethical and disturbing' acts that he conducted as part of his research. Everything I've read confirms that he was exiled to Venom fifteen years ago and died of natural causes there. Premier Carrington may be bluffing when he says that he's never worked with Andross, but at the same time, any evidence that the Cornerian government has for his continued existence is very spurious. I don't believe that they presented any hard evidence to the Imperials, which makes Macbeth much more likely to refuse the deal and continue on with their weapons sales in spite of the sanctions that the other countries are threatening."_

Sandy nodded and then presented her co-host with another question. _"Mal, if it turns out that Andross was or is working with Macbeth, what does that mean? What were they using him for?"_

" _If he_ was _being used by them, it may have been to help them develop new weapons. This could include the advanced EMP device used to knock out all the power to Northpoint, Corneria. Keep in mind that in his day, Andross was considered one of the greatest minds of the last century—in history, even. Sure, he had two other brilliant researchers working with him, but he was the driving force behind the bulk of the research credited to him. If Corneria is correct and he's still alive, Macbeth could have other deadly and unconventional weapons at its disposal. I think that's why Corneria, West Fortuna, and Zoness are trying to pressure Macbeth to say something about Andross. He could be a very dangerous man, Sandy."_

He added, " _Unfortunately, nothing is likely to come of this demand. Macbeth declares that Andross has never been part of their operation, but at the same time, they refuse to release their research papers in the interest of keeping their defense secrets under wraps. This is likely to become little more than a political screaming match, I'm afraid. If Andross is dropped from the terms of the deal, this is much more likely to progress further. Macbeth doesn't have any major allies—in terms of GDP or military spending— so these proposed sanctions would cripple them."_

The macaw on the left side of the television screen nodded, then said, "Thank you, Mal." Then, the image of the malamute disappeared, allowing Sandy's image to fill the entire screen again. She continued, _"Our next breaking story: violence erupts at an Iris Vinca rally earlier today. The sitting President was fired on by an assassin while delivering a speech to the general public at the Historic Abrugarvo Auditorium. The shooter missed the President, but she hit and mortally wounded President Vinca's Secret Service chief, Beverly Few. The President's staff reportedly warned President Vinca that the venue was unsecure and that there was a strong chance that someone would try to assassinate her, but she chose not to cancel the rally. Details on the shooter are limited. City police officials claim that the shooter attempted to disguise herself—or himself—as a nun. Unfortunately, no one has any information on the shooter's appearance._

 _Another developing story also comes from the rally. Ten attendees reported being attacked and slashed by one of the Cornerian mercenary soldiers hired to supplement the Secret Service at the rally. Reportedly, the mercenary forced her way through the fleeing crowd by slashing through them with a pair of pizz…wait, is this some kind of joke, like that racist airline crash story from a few years ago?"_

From offscreen, one of the show's producers replied, " _No, Sandy—this is real."_

" _Okay…"_ Sandy muttered. _"Sorry about that. As I was saying, the mercenary slashed through the fleeing crowd with a pair of pizza cutters. All ten victims of the attack were admitted to the nearest hospital. Two are listed as stable, four are in critical condition, and four of them died. We'll keep you posted as this story continues to develop."_

The broadcast then transitioned to a commercial break, leaving Fox and his teammates to stare at each other in horror and disbelief. Eyes wide, Miyu asked, "Did…did Rena really do that?"

Fox said nothing. Instead, he averted his eyes, covered his face with his palm, and groaned loudly enough for several of the other patients in the waiting room to stare at him. "That's it. That's it for her," he grumbled. "You see? _This_ is why I was uncomfortable about us representing Corneria at the rally."

"She _did_ technically save the President, though," Slippy suggested.

Visibly unhappy, Fox turned to the frog and asked, "If I saved the world from annihilation but destroyed Corneria City, killed tens of thousands of people, and caused trillions in property damage, would that still make me a hero?"

"That's pretty much what happens at the end of every superhero movie ever created, so yeah, it would."

Fox shrugged. "Huh. Point made."

A moment later, a squirrel nurse emerged from a nearby hallway and approached Fox. "You can see your friend now, if you'd like." Then, she turned to Xavier and Vincent and added, "You too."

The members of both teams stood up and followed the nurse into the nearby hallway, where they boarded an elevator and rode it up several floors until they reached one of the levels dedicated to allowing recovering patients to rest.

"This way," said the nurse, leading the teams out of the elevator and turning right. Near the end of the hallway, the squirrel stopped and pointed to the two doors on the left. Hartmann occupied the first, and Rena rested in the second one, closest to the edge of the building.

While Vincent and Xavier shuffled into the first room, Fox held up his hand and motioned for Miyu and Slippy to stay in the hallway. Then, he walked up to Rena's door and opened it. Heavy thoughts weighed on his mind. In spite of her quick thinking that prevented President Vinca from being assassinated, he knew that he could not allow her pizza wheel murder spree to go unpunished. Heck, he figured that the Titanian authorities already had plans for her. That made his decision that much easier for him to make.

" _I guess it was bound to happen at some point,"_ thought Fox. _"I'm just sad that it had to happen now."_

He stepped into the darkened room and looked at Rena, tucked underneath a blanket on her hospital bed and dressed in a standard-issue medical gown that he knew she hated wearing. Upon seeing her senpai, Rena allowed herself a shallow smile that vanished the instant she perceived the displeasure written all over his face. "Fox, what's wrong?" she asked.

Fox avoided eye contact with the yellow vixen and stroked his muzzle with his hand as a way of trying to make his upcoming declaration less painful. He knew it was useless. "Rena, I found out what happened earlier at the rally, and I…man—I don't know how to say this. It hurts so much. I just…"

"Spit it out, senpai," Rena snapped. "I don't have time for sentimental crap."

Hardening his expression, Fox clenched his fists and declared, "Okay, then. Rena, you're fi…"

Suddenly, the door opened behind him. Whoever had opened said door flipped the lights on the instant he set foot in the room, drowning out Fox's statement in the process. Fox spun on his heels to find out who had barged in without making himself known. He came face to face with a tall ragdoll cat with brown patches overlying his silky white fur. He wore a simple button-down shirt and black dress pants, and he looked to be around seventy.

"Oh, hello there. I hope I didn't intrude on anything," the feline remarked in an airy voice that sounded like it could become the brunt of a parody with virtually no effort. He gave Fox a crooked smirk that seemed disturbingly jovial, then he approached Rena's bedside and held out his hand to her. "Hi—I'm Wilson Vinca, President Vinca's husband."

Not missing a beat, Rena ignored Mr. Vinca's handshake and pointed towards the opened hospital room door. "If you're her husband, then who's _she?"_

Mr. Vinca turned around and looked at a young, busty shiba inu leaning against the wall in the hallway outside the room. Blushing, he replied, "She's my 'acquaintance,' if you get my drift."

Rena and Fox responded with a deadpan silence.

"What?" Mr. Vinca shrugged, as if nothing was amiss. "It's not like Iris is going to give me any. Might as well play the field while you still can, I say."

More silence.

"Anyhow," Mr. Vinca continued, "My wife and I would like to thank you for saving her life back at the rally. We—and all of Titania—owe you a huge round of applause. I'm sure we can squeeze a bit more money into your checkbooks for that." He winked, then pulled something from behind his back. "And I'd also like to give this to you as a token of our appreciation."

Mr. Vinca handed Rena a twelve inch tall green box with a clear plastic front that displayed an action figure of President Vinca. Noticeably, the figure looked more youthful and pleasant than President Vinca actually did. On the bottom corner of the box, below the chrome font that read 'Iris Vinca,' were two signatures. Both looked more like scribbles than autographs, but Rena assumed that both the President and her husband had signed the box. Not that it meant anything to her at all.

"Wow. Thanks," she said, flatly.

"You're very welcome," Mr. Vinca replied. "Pretty ladies like you deserve a gift or two now and then." He gave her a suggestive wink before turning around and walking out of the room.

Trying not to barf on her bedspread, Rena made an attempt at expunging the inexplicable sour taste in her mouth. When that failed, she shook her head a few times and then looked at Fox. "So, what were you saying earlier?"

Fox sighed. "Never mind. Apparently the Vincas love you. What did the doctors say about your leg?"

"They said I had a fractured fibula. They did surgery on it and put me in a cast." She let out a long, drawn-out sigh and then finished, "They said I couldn't walk on it for at least six weeks."

Genuine sorrow filled Fox's voice. "I'm sorry about that. Is there anything I can do to help?"

"Not really…although I haven't seen Slippy use his wheelchair lately. Do you think you could ask him to let me have it?"

Shaking his head in mock disbelief, Fox replied, "I don't even want to think about the kind of mods you would do to that thing if you got your hands on it. Sure—I'll ask him."

"Very good, senpai," Rena smirked. "Now, if you'll help me up, let's get out of here." She held out her hand and attempted to sit up in bed.

Fox balked. "Whoa—not so fast! You've still got to recover from your surgery."

"I'm fine, Fox. They patched up all my injuries. I can leave whenever you're ready."

"Well, if you say so…"

He moved towards Rena, only to be interrupted by the door opening behind him. Frustrated by a second intrusion, he turned around and noticed Xavier standing in the doorway. "Hey, Fox—Hartmann wants to talk to you."

"Okay. What's this about?" Fox asked.

"He'll explain it. Come into the next room."

Fox turned and followed the feline out of Rena's room, turning off the light switch on the way out. With the room shrouded in darkness yet again, Rena shuffled beneath her bedsheets. However, when she stopped moving, the faint rustle of clothing emanated from the back right corner of the room. She let out a quiet gasp and looked for the source of the noise.

"Boo," said a hooded figure, suddenly standing next to Rena's bedside.

Rena shrieked and pulled her covers up to her muzzle, much like a frightened child would. She stared at the phantom, feeling helpless and trapped thanks to her injured leg. Then, the figure lowered its hood and set Rena at ease. It was merely Lucas.

"What the fark was that?" Rena snapped. "You almost made me soil the bed!"

Lucas gave the yellow vixen a dismissive hand wave. "Relax. You'll get used to it eventually."

"If my leg hadn't been in a cast, you would have gotten kicked in the face."

"But your leg _was_ in a cast, and I knew that. So, you might say that I planned it out perfectly."

Rena rolled her eyes and exhaled an angry sigh. "What's this really about, Lucas? I know you didn't hide out in my hospital room—which is creepy, by the way—just to scare me."

"You're right, I didn't," Lucas answered. "I came to say goodbye. My work here is as done as it can be, and now it's time for me to move onto my next target."

"And your target is what? A dealership where you can get a motorcycle with a sidecar so that I can actually _aim_ at Rafa next time?"

"Very funny," said Lucas, "But no—I'm heading to the International Archives in Zoness to do some digging on Rafa's family. You know, the Ortegas. They may have had one of the largest fortunes in history; and if Rafa has access to any of it, that information could be useful. I can update you on what I find if you'd like that."

Rena shrugged. "Huh. Sure."

"One more thing," Lucas added, reaching into his pocket and producing a tiny, yellow sticky note with a ten-digit number on it. He handed the note to Rena, who stared blankly at it.

Then, Rena narrowed her eyes and asked, "Really? You're giving me your phone number? I'll admit that's really cute, but I'm afraid I'm going to have to burst your bubble. Thing is, I'm taken."

Lucas raised a bewildered eyebrow. "What? By who?"

"First off, it's 'by whom,' even though nobody says that in conversation. Second, I'm taken by _me_ ," Rena explained. "Oh—and before you let that train of thought leave the station and start picturing me in a masturbatory fantasy, I'll have you know that I'm not into _that_ , either. Okay…well, maybe a little bit. A girl's got to do what a girl's got to do."

"I…wasn't picturing that at all, but I am now," Lucas replied, confusion in his voice. "Thanks for the visual."

Rena frowned. "You're welcome, pervert."

In response, Lucas chuckled and stepped closer to Rena. "Oh relax. We'll keep it strictly platonic. Call me if you get lonely and want to talk." Although he expected Rena to punch him, he ruffled her hair with his hand and then knelt down to kiss her hand before she realized what had happened—which was saying something considering the speed of her reflexes.

Stunned, Rena fell speechless, reduced to a silent watcher as Lucas turned and exited the room. He closed the door behind him, leaving Rena alone with her thoughts in the dark room. At first, anger filled her body. She clenched her fists and bared her teeth at his audacity. However, as the seconds turned into minutes, her anger slowly faded, only to be replaced by a contented form of happiness that caused a faint smile to materialize on her lips. She looked at Lucas's sticky note and smirked. Then, she shook her head and leaned back into the pillows at the head of her hospital cot.

* * *

 _-_ § _-_

* * *

Meanwhile, Fox entered the room where Hartmann rested. A medical station replete with multiple fluid bags and IV tubes stood to the right of his bed, and two different wires wove their way into his left arm. From his mere appearance, he looked tired, hurt, and even broken in a way. In the previously-bloody patches that covered his fur, his natural silver and black coloration ate away at the beige accents that had been painted over it. Unable to lift his arm, he whispered, "Come here, Fox."

Fox obeyed and stopped next to his bedside. "You look…terrible," he gasped. "Are you going to be okay?"

The husky nodded. "I think so. I've survived worse things than this before. Listen, Fox—there's something I wanted to tell you, along with Xav and Vince. I hate to do it, but after what happened today, I realized that I've got to change something. And that," he paused, "…Means that I'm retiring. Vincent, Xavier—you two can keep running Onyx if you want; but from now on, count me out. I've been thinking about it for a while, and I've decided that I think it's time for me to unwind, find another cute husky to marry, and start a family."

Xavier's eyes opened wide. "B…b…but you can't! We need you for the boss battle on the train in Arc IX! Without you, we won't stand a chance!"

Letting out a frustrated groan, Hartmann shook his head. "Thanks for the spoiler alert, Xav. How many arcs does this thing have, anyway?"

"Hmm…" Xavier mused, scratching his chin. "Ten, I think. That means this is the halfway point, which also means that _The Oasis_ will look short compared to this when it's over."

A low rumble emanated from Hartmann's throat. Aggression in his eyes, he spat, "Fine. I'll stay the course. But I swear, K.S. Reynard, that if you kill me off before I get the chance to see my own child's eyes, I will haunt your nightmares just like Scarlet haunts Elarix's for what he did to her in his story, also known as 'the death of writing as an art form.'"

Being the strong, silent type, K.S. Reynard said nothing in return, partially because that would be weird and/or creepy.

"Hey Xav," Hartmann added, "What happens in Arcs VII and VIII?"

"Well, Arc VII is the one where they try to get Pe…"

Fox waved his hands and stomped towards Xavier, shouting over his spoilers and demanding, "Stop it! We'll get there when we get there! Hartmann, is there anything else you wanted to tell me?"

Hartmann responded with a devious grin. "I want to tell you what happens in Arc VI."

"Oh great. What happens then?" Fox sulked.

"Before we came here, we did some more digging. We may have found the East Fortunans' main financier. We followed some previous leads to a few projects hosted by the Red Group, based in Eledard. The projects were heavily encrypted and secured by insane firewalls, but we did manage to extract the name of the contract holder. It's likely that she's related to Rafa, simply by her last name."

Fox cocked his head. " _She?_ What's her name? Did you find anything else other than that?"

"Her name is Christina Ortega, and unfortunately, no—we did not find anything else on her. Nothing useful, at least. You know, there are at least fifty people out there with that exact same name. We don't know which one of them she is, what species she is, or even what she looks like."

"Hmm…" Fox mused. "What does this have to do with Arc VI?"

Hartmann explained, "If you're feeling up to it, I'm sure you could find a way into the Red Group's operation and at least get an idea of what Rafa and his cronies are cooking up. We were going to try it ourselves after this operation, but as you can see, I'm not in any shape to do that. If you want this, I'm going to leave it open for you."

Fox took a step back and stroked his muzzle, tapping his foot on the floor at the same time. "I don't know about this," he cautioned, "The last time I tried to infiltrate a corporate military complex, I got captured by a clone of Darth Vader and got hit over the head with an unobtanium staff. And then Scarlet blew up. Fond memories."

"Well, I'm sure you've learned from your experience," Hartmann suggested. "Besides, you've got some real brainpower on your side now. I'm sure with a mixture of good intel, some social engineering, and a bit of electronic know-how, you could make something happen."

"Yeah, maybe, but would anything really change if I passed this up?"

"Very possibly," Hartmann answered. "You see, the Red Group and its main facilities are located in Eledard, a politically neutral country that won't allow Corneria to investigate the Red Group's affairs if something unusual shows up. As a freelance mercenary, however…"

"I see," Fox mumbled, rubbing his muzzle. "I'll think about it. When you're well enough, pass all the info you've got to me, okay?"

"Will do," said Hartmann. "Oh—and one more thing, Fox. When you see Scarlet again, can you give her a kiss for me?"

Fox rolled his eyes. "Sure. As if that present you helped me buy for her wasn't enough. Thanks for helping me with that, by the way. She's going to go crazy when she sees it."

"Not a problem, Fox. You know how much I love that vixen."

While turning to leave the room, Fox glanced over his shoulder and narrowed his eyes. "You'd better not be sending her any photos, _Bruno_. She's mine—for now at least."

"Oh relax," Hartmann replied with a cavalier hand wave.

* * *

 _-_ § _-_

* * *

Stepping out into the hallway, Fox looked at Miyu and Slippy, who had leaned against the back wall close to where Mr. Vinca's youthful 'acquaintance' had previously been standing. He turned to re-enter Rena's room to help her out of bed, but he stopped when he happened to look the right and saw his father approaching him.

The elder vulpine held out his hand and called out, "Fox, hold on."

Fox crossed his arms and shuffled down the hallway towards his father while trying to hide the fact that he had started to grate on his nerves of late. "What is it, Dad?"

"I have something to tell you," James replied, moving to within three feet of Fox and talking into his ear in a way that prevented Slippy and Miyu from hearing him. "I just came back from visiting Mystic in the room on the other end of the hall, and…"

"Whoa, whoa, whoa…" Fox interrupted. "What happened to her?"

"Well, she was in the audience at the rally—like I said she'd be—and when the gunshot went off and turned the audience into a panicked mob, it triggered a PTSD episode from her childhood. She got trampled on the floor of the auditorium and almost died."

Despite the fact that he did not like Mystic particularly much, Fox felt intense guilt for her injury occurring under his watch. "Oh my word…is she okay?"

"She's doing all right now," James answered, letting out a relieved sigh. "She has a few bruises, but nothing major. But I have to tell you, when I saw what happened to her, it made me realize that I had to make some changes for her sake." He paused. "And that's why I'm quitting the team. You can call me if you need any advice, but from here on out, I'm going to leave you alone and take care of Mystic."

Fox tried to look unaffected, although his thoughts suggested otherwise. _"Yes! There_ is _a god after all! I can't believe it! He's finally going to leave!"_

Of course, since broadcasting his internal exuberance would have been impolite, he forced himself to hold a straight face and clapped his father on the shoulder. "I'm sorry to hear that, but you have to do what you have to do. I wish the best for you two—really."

"Aw, thanks, son," James replied. "I'll make sure you get the best seat at our wedding. It won't be that far off, you know."

Suddenly, Fox felt ill. The thought of his father marrying a woman five years his (Fox's) junior and…um…taking the necessary steps for the conception of a vulpine child with her threatened to make him lose his lunch—which he technically hadn't eaten due to the sudden turn of events at the rally. Nevertheless, the terror of losing it in front of his father and teammates forced him to look around for a restroom or even an open trash can.

Seeing neither in the immediate vicinity, he darted back into Rena's room, raced towards a tiny trash bin in the back corner, and threw up into it.

Horrified, Rena shrieked, "Ew! What the fark, Senpai?!"

* * *

 _AUTHOR'S NOTE(S):  
_

 _Finally, the Executive Protection arc is over. I've got some ideas for where I want the next chapter to go, and several of them are hilarious. Stay posted for more.  
_

 _Also, you can see the results of your poll votes in James's response. I personally wanted Fox to fire him, but you picked the least painful option._


	27. Skinship

**Arc VI: Party Crashing  
**  
 _Part 1: Skinship_

After what seemed like weeks—even though it had been only a few days—Fox and his team's return flight touched down at the Corneria City International Airport. After debarking from the crowded airliner and helping Rena hobble out of the plane with the aid of her new crutch, Fox led the others to the baggage claim, where they located their luggage and then walked through the exit doors. The glass and metal panels slid open for the group, which also included James and Mystic.

Outside the terminal, a mile-long concrete sidewalk stretched both ways. Beyond it was the asphalt where a small number of vehicles cruised along. Thanks to Rena and Mystic's unfortunate hospital stays, the team had been forced to reschedule their return tickets for a later flight than they had planned for. Their departure time hovered around the 2:00 AM mark, which, thanks to the reverse time zone change relative to Corneria and the time of the flight itself, resulted in the team landing in Corneria City at the same local time as their departure.

All of them felt exhausted from the day's events, wanting nothing more than to find a comfortable bed—heck, any kind of mattress, really—and fall asleep.

Looking up at the night sky where the stars struggled to compete with Corneria City's light pollution, Miyu yawned and solemnly asked Fox, "Do we really have to wait for Customs to clear the weapons crate before we can leave?"

Fox shook his head and replied, "Thankfully, no. They'll let us pick it up tomorrow. I volunteer Slippy for the job."

"Hey!" the amphibian croaked, his tiredness expunged in an instant by Fox's suggestion. "Why me?"

Crossing his arms, Fox answered, "Well, I thought since I'm going to be going over a bunch of new intel and planning our next operation tomorrow, you could take care of the weapons crate. Then again, it's pretty heavy, so maybe Miyu should help you out with it."

"Aw, Fox—c'mon!" Miyu whined.

"Hey, you're getting paid for this, you know."

"But it's not what I signed up for," Miyu grumbled.

"I didn't sign up for having to literally fix a broken fourth wall in my base, either, but that's just how things are," Fox retorted.

Slippy took a feeble step away from the vulpine and stammered, "Uh…sorry about the wall, Fox."

Despite not looking at the frog, Fox let out a quiet chuckle and turned to his right in time to see James and Mystic wave goodbye and disappear down a set of stairs that led to the long-term parking lot where James had left his old truck.

Fox sighed and shook his head, then addressed the rest of the group. "So, how were you all planning to get back to the base…or wherever you were planning to go?"

Miyu answered first. "Fay is going to pick me up. I'm going to stay the night at her apartment."

"Fair enough," said Fox. "How about you, Slippy?"

"Liftcar," the amphibian yawned. "There's got to be someone willing to drive me around at two in the morning in a city this big. Uh, Rena, you should probably come with me. I don't think you really want to walk all the way back to the base with that crutch under your arm."

The yellow vixen's icy eyes narrowed. "Are you trying to set something up with me?"

"Says the lady who let that creepy dingo guy into her hospital room without telling anyone," Slippy whispered under his breath, knowing that Rena would not hear him…

…Except for the fact that her oversized ears picked up on all of it. "Hey pond scum, he's a _jackal_. Show some respect."

Fox and Slippy exchanged glances, with the former of the two subliminally winking at the other.

For a moment, silence prevailed outside the airport terminal. The cool night air breezed through Fox's fur, bringing with it the sterilized scent of the ultra-modern megacity. After two days in the desert, it felt good to be home, where the temperatures avoided hitting triple digits on a daily basis. The city's innumerable multicolored skyscrapers stretched to the horizon. Even though the hour suggested otherwise, the city never truly slept. Fox certainly wanted to, though.

His thoughts were interrupted by Slippy, who pointed to the small cardboard gift bag in Fox's hand and asked, "What's in the bag there?"

"Um…oh, this," Fox blushed, trying to hide the bag itself from Slippy. "It's something I bought for Scarlet."

Out of Fox's field of vision, Rena rolled her eyes and sneered.

Despite Fox's answer, it seemed that Slippy desired to know more about the contents of his gift. "So, what is it? Some tail rings, maybe? Those are sexy!"

"Thanks, Slippy—now I'll _never_ try any of those," Rena snapped.

"Says the lady who wears shorts short enough to be underwear," Slippy fired back.

"Hey—at least my clothes let other people know that I bother to stay in shape, unlike you and your baggy black canvas flaps with pockets in them."

Slippy looked at his own outfit that consisted of the same kind of black t-shirt and black cargo pants that he usually wore, along with a pair of black and white high-top sneakers. "I'm sure you'd really like to see my _Assault_ outfit, then."

"Eye burn! Eye burn!" Miyu shrieked, moving away from Slippy and covering her eyes.

Despite Miyu's comment subliminally ridiculing his own fatness, Slippy smirked and continued his rhetoric. "Plus, these bad boys have three pockets on each side. Check out what I can put in there!" With that, he reached into one pocket on each of his pant legs and removed the contents. He held up a cheeseburger in his left hand and a rubber band ball, then took a bite out of the burger while bouncing the ball on the ground. He then returned the items to his pockets and pointed to another compartment with a noticeable bulge in it.

"But that's not all! Check this out!" Reaching into the second pocket on his right leg, he pulled out a handful of red jawbreakers and held them up. "Thanks to these pants, I can bring my Nuclear Fireballs with me wherever I go! Here—a fireball for you, a fireball for you…"

He tossed a pair of fireballs towards Miyu and Fox before he turned to Rena and announced, "...And a fireball for you."

Instead of throwing it to her, he wound up and hurled the hard candy into the sky. The fireball air-mailed Rena by over fifty feet and disappeared over a nearby concrete wall that overlooked the long-term parking deck. A moment later, the faint sound of glass shattering filled the air, followed by a blaring car alarm.

Slippy dropped his remaining fireballs on the concrete at his feet and covered his mouth with his hands. "Oh sheet. Uh, Rena, come with me. I'll get that Liftcar cued up now." He pulled his phone out of the second pocket on his left leg and opened the ridesharing app before he began jogging away from the scene of the 'crime'.

"Hey, idiot! I've got a crutch here!" Rena shouted.

"Hobble faster, then! We've got to get away from this place!"

Baring her teeth and snarling in frustration, Rena limped after Slippy, leaving Fox and Miyu alone on the sidewalk in front of the airport terminal.

Miyu popped her Nuclear Fireball into her mouth and flinched at the intense, spicy heat created by the jawbreaker. "Yikes, that is hot. Isn't spicy food supposed to be bad for him, though?"

With a shrug, Fox replied, "He eats cheeseburgers without teeth, so I guess it's all up in the air at this point."

"That is really creepy."

"You're not kidding."

After a few minutes, a distant pair of headlights appeared on the narrow airport road that ran parallel with the terminal. Both Fox and Miyu hoped that they belonged to each of their respective rides, although as the lights drew closer, Miyu realized that she would have to wait a bit longer to be picked up. Scarlet's red convertible pulled up to the curb and stopped in front of Fox. Its driver flashed him a toothy grin and blew a kiss his way immediately afterwards.

Fox smiled, then loaded his suitcase into the trunk of her car and climbed into the seat next to Scarlet. Meanwhile, Miyu bit her lip and dug her phone out of her purse to see what was taking Fay so long to arrive.

"Oh, you're kidding me! She just woke up? Ughhhhhhhh!"

"Bye, Miyu," Fox smirked, waving goodbye to the lynx as Scarlet accelerated away from the curb and rounded the corner at the end of the terminal road.

Seated inside Scarlet's car, Fox clipped on his seatbelt and breathed a sigh of relief. He felt the wind from the open roof whipping through the cabin, throwing Scarlet's hair into a mess in the process. When the vixen had put a quarter mile between her and the airport, she looked at Fox and asked, "So, how'd it go?"

"Let's just say you might have made the right move in not coming," Fox replied. "A nun tried to kill the President, and it led to the most ridiculous car chase I've even seen in person. Not to mention that Rafa showed up in the middle of it all and tried to kill me with a helicopter before Rena destroyed it with a pizza wheel."

Scarlet blinked her eyes a few times and stared blankly at the road ahead. "That's…interesting. I'm glad you're okay, though. I could never forgive myself if you died on a mission that I bailed out on."

"Hey, it's okay," Fox replied, running a hand through Scarlet's windblown hair. "I got you something from Titania. Actually, Hartmann helped me with it. You might want to pull over so you don't freak out when you see it."

Scarlet's ears shot up at the mention of Hartmann's name. Taking Fox's advice and pulling off to the side of the long airport access road, she shifted her car into neutral and looked at Fox with a pouty expression. "Aww…Hartmann was there? Now I'm bummed."

"He told me to give you a kiss for him," said Fox, smiling. "First though, why don't you open the bag?"

"Okay, here goes…" Scarlet reached over and dug her hand into Fox's gift bag. Her face contorted into an expression of confusion and curiosity when her hand touched what was inside, but after a moment, her eyes lit up. She yanked the contents of the bag out of and held them up, revealing them as a diamond-studded set of lingerie, made out of _actual_ diamonds.

For a moment, her jaw dropped; but after that, she dropped her gifts on her lap and squealed with glee. She threw her arms around Fox and all but screamed into his ear, "This is perfect! I love you so much!"

Overwhelmed by materialistic happiness, she throttled Fox so badly that he felt his ribs would snap if she kept it up for much longer. "S…Scarlet—you're crushing me!" he gasped.

The red vixen relented, but only slightly. With her muzzle mere inches from Fox's, she gave him a sly, seductive look and whispered, "Oh, you are _so_ going to get rewarded for that. I was going to keep it a secret until later, but while you were away, my doctor gave me a sample of a new supplement that's supposed to deliver explosive results in the bedroom. I tried it yesterday, and let's just say that we're going to have a long night."

* * *

 _-_ § _-_

* * *

Hours later, Fox's eyes worked their way open. He found himself in the same spot where he had left off around five in the morning; namely, in Scarlet's bed. Yawning, he sat up and looked at his bedmate, who seemed oblivious to his movements. A thick, pungent scent filled Scarlet's apartment. From Fox's perspective, it seemed to be emanating from the sheets—not much of a surprise to him, considering the actions taken a few hours ago.

His eyes drifted to the nightstand on the left side of the bed, where a digital clock displayed the time of 11:45 AM. Next to the clock sat a tiny, glass vial with a screw top, filled with the mystery medicine Scarlet had implored him to take before some of the most violent, protracted love-making he had ever experienced. While Scarlet continued to sleep, Fox picked up the vial and studied its contents, which looked like nothing more than herbal supplements.

He put the jar back on the nightstand with a faint 'clink', which had the effect of making Scarlet's ear twitch. Seconds later, the vixen yawned and opened her eyes. "Good morning, handsome," she purred, although the tiredness in her voice made her words sound less sexy than she intended.

Fox smiled and replied, "Good morning, beautiful. Ready to get up and go to the base?"

Scarlet's kit-like, playful expression faded into a morose stare. "Why? You just got back from the mission in Titania. Aren't you going to take a few days off?"

"Normally yes, but Hartmann gave me a tip on where we need to go next; and I feel like we need to act quickly if we want to make it happen. You don't have anything going on this week, do you?"

Shaking her head, Scarlet answered, "No, not really. Where are you going this time?"

"Eladard," said Fox.

At this, Scarlet's enthusiasm seemed to return. "Oh, well in that case, I'd be happy to come with you. I've got a few friends there that I'd like to get in touch with. I'm sure I'll find out eventually, but what are we doing in Eladard, anyway?"

Fox slid out of bed and blushed at the realization of his own nudity; although this had started bothering him less as he spent more time with Scarlet. While locating his boxers on the floor next to the bed and sliding them on, he explained, "Hartmann says a company called the Red Group is developing weapons for East Fortuna. He also said that a lady named Christina Ortega is funding them. Since Ortega is Rafa's family name, there's a chance the two are related. I don't know exactly how it's going to work, but we're going to get into the Red Group's facility and get to the bottom of this one way or another. That's why I'm going to the base as soon as I get dressed...and I guess after I get the smell of _you_ out of my fur."

Scarlet gave him a playful grin. "That's what hot, steamy showers are for. Oh, and before you make a big deal out of this 'Christina' person, it's probably just Rafa using a girl's name."

"I thought about that," Fox replied, "I don't see it, because when Rafa was part of my team, he was almost always short on money. That guy couldn't save worth crap."

In response, Scarlet shrugged and pushed the covers off her body, then climbed out of bed.

Although he allowed his eyes to wander to his red counterpart and her all-natural red, white, and black fursuit, Fox made his way to the dresser positioned against the back wall of Scarlet's bedroom, where he had left his phone on 'silent'. He pressed the power button on the side.

"Oh great."

The instant the screen lit up, a notification appeared on it, indicating twenty unread text messages. Cringing, he unlocked his phone while Scarlet crept up behind him and began massaging his back. The vixen's touch comforted him, which he felt grateful for, considering the coming onslaught of unanswered texts. When he opened the text messaging app, he discovered that all of the missed texts belonged to Slippy.

 _"Damn. I knew Scarlet and I should have just gone to sleep when we got back here."_

As Scarlet's capable fingers dug into his back, he began reading the string of texts.

* * *

 _7:32 AM: Hey Fox, just got to the airport. Where's the desk I need to go 2?_  
 _7:45 AM: NVM, found it_  
 _7:48 AM: Which of these papers do I need 2 sign?_  
 _7:53 AM: There r so many of them help plz_  
 _8:18 AM: Thx for the help Fox }:(_  
 _8:26 AM: Weapons crate has bum wheel. We should sue the airline 4 damages._  
 _8:29 AM: Miyu tweaked her arm. How do I CPR?_  
 _8:30 AM: I gave her mouth 2 mouth but it still hurts help!_  
 _8:36 AM: We're gonna get donuts at Dunkin Kreme. What you want?_  
 _8:38 AM: No donuts for you then :'(_  
 _8:39 AM: O crap cop saw me txting n drivin_  
 _8:40 AM: You'll never take me alive!_  
 _9:02 AM: Finally got away from the po-po. I knew I played Most Wanted 4 a reason_  
 _9:03 AM: Check engine light came on. Something smells funny._  
 _9:18 AM: Finally got back to the base. What's the code to the back gate? Miyu and I don't know it._  
 _9:26 AM: Tell me dammit_  
 _9:40 AM: Taiga let us in, no thx to u_  
 _9:42 AM: uh oh van broke down in the loading bay_  
 _9:45 AM: Bum wheel fell off weapons crate while unloading. It broke open and now bullets r all over the floor in teh warehaus. What do I do?_  
 _9:57 AM: Tried to clean up the bullets. Vacuum cleaner broke. Plz help_

* * *

"Fox, your back just tensed up again. Is something wrong?" Scarlet implored, subtly pressing her breasts into Fox's back in an attempt at making him release the sudden tension.

Fox bit his lip. "We're going to need to cut our hot, steamy shower short and get to the base ASAP. That's the last time I let Slippy handle something like that."

"What did he do?" Scarlet asked while caressing Fox's shoulder.

"You don't want to know. Heck, I don't even want to know."

* * *

 _-_ § _-_

* * *

After driving to the base and spending an hour trying to right all of Slippy's wrongs, Fox emerged from his base's main warehouse area and wiped his brow. He tried not to think about the broken weapons crate. Or the broken down van engine that would need to be repaired. Or the vaccum cleaner that Slippy had eviscerated while trying to suck up bullets. Thankfully, Slippy had plenty of experience in repairing things.

He glanced at the smartwatch on his wrist and took note of the time, now well past noon. Before navigating Bullet Hell in the warehouse, he had called for a team meeting in the base's conference room, located near the front of the building. He had a feeling one or two team members would find some reason to miss the meeting, but he tried not to allow that presupposition to irritate him. For a number of minutes, he strode through the halls until he reached the still-broken fourth wall near the receptionist's desk, which was unmanned at the moment. He shook his head, then walked towards a door on the left side of the hallway near the main entry.

Pulling the door open, he stepped into the darkened conference room and recoiled in surprise when he saw the entirety of his team along with Scarlet seated at the oval-shaped table in the center of the room. Miyu and Slippy sat on the back side of the table facing the door, while Taiga and Edgar occupied the chairs opposite them. Scarlet lounged and absent-mindedly played with her catsuit's zipper in an office chair at the end of the table with her back to the left wall. One open chair stood between Taiga and Scarlet, even though Fox was entitled to the 'special' chair on the right side of the table opposite from Scarlet. Of course, Rena had claimed that seat for herself and had no intention of leaving it.

Fox gave the yellow vixen a disapproving glance and then took the seat between Scarlet and Taiga, who still insisted on wearing a purple catsuit instead of the appropriate Foxfire Enterprises licensed gear. After clearing his throat, Fox began, "Thanks for waiting for me, team. I had to take care of a few bullets." While Miyu covered her mouth and giggled, he gave Slippy a withering stare and then continued, "Since Rena is going to interrupt me if I don't get down to brass tacks immediately, I'll hurry up and explain everything. Basically, the Red Group in Eledard might be building experimental weapons for the East Fortunan forces. Based on what I've been told, a lady by the name of Christina Ortega is financing the project. Our goal is to infiltrate the Red Group's main complex in downtown Eledard and find out who's really behind this and what they're building for East Fortuna."

The group sat in silence until Taiga spoke up and asked, "That sounds fun, but really, how do we plan on getting in there? And by 'we', I mean everyone except me and Edgar, since we're stuck at a desk all day because this story already has too many prominent OCs in it."

"'Tis the truth," Edgar groaned.

Fox felt a tinge of pity for the white-furred leopardess, although he figured that no one reading the story would. "I'll be honest, Taiga—I have no idea how we're going to get in. I actually scheduled this meeting so we could brainstorm some ideas. I know it's definitely going to be harder than disguising ourselves as employees and walking in."

"Hey, don't be too sure about that," Scarlet purred, leaning back in her seat. "If you try hard enough to make yourself look like you belong somewhere, you will."

"That's true, but I think we're going to be dealing with more strict security than what we're used to. We're trying to get into a top-level military research company that screens their employees on the level of the Cornerian Department of Internal Security," Fox replied.

"What's the Department of Internal Security?" asked Slippy.

"There's no such thing. It doesn't exist," Taiga replied.

"But they've got a website— cor . dis . gov," Miyu suggested, resting her head on her hands.

"Yeah, but when you go to it, it's just one page that says _'We do not exist. We are not spying on you. We are not watching your every waking movement and collecting your personal information for undisclosed reasons.'"_

At the end of the table, Scarlet smirked at the others and said, "I know someone who built the databases for the DIS. It's why I'm not in them. Tchk!" She winked and leaned back in her chair once again.

Having heard enough talk about the mysterious Cornerian intelligence agency, Fox held up his hands and snapped, "Enough with the DIS. We need to get into the Red Group's infrastructure somehow. Maybe we could slip in as contractors for a service they need."

"Fat chance of them hiring a Cornerian company to fix a problem in Eladard," Slippy opined.

"That's a good point," Fox replied. "We'd have to make ourselves seem like we're local—and professional. One thing that I just realized is that they've probably already got service contracts with a ton of different companies to manage their operation." He paused and let out a frustrated groan. "There has to be some way in!"

At the head of the table on the right side, Rena offered a suggestion. "The Red Group's a pretty huge company. I'm sure they've got thousands of employees, and if they do, that means they've got bunches of birthdays, weddings, retirements, and a ton of random celebrations."

"What are you getting at?" Fox asked, intrigued by her statement.

"I'm saying we could go as entertainment for an office party or something and find a way in that way."

Fox leaned forward and stroked his muzzle in thought. Around him, the rest of the team considered the idea in silence. Then, Fox returned his attention to Rena. "That seems like it could be too hit-and-miss to work. Those office parties aren't usually public knowledge, either. How are we going to find out about them if we want to get in as entertainment?"

"Watch and learn, Senpai," Rena replied. Pulling a tablet computer from under the table, she placed it on the tabletop and began typing on the digital keypad.

"Let's see here...Poodle search for 'Red Group news'. Top headline from yesterday: _'Red Group COO announces retirement.'"_

Fox's ears perked up. "There might actually be something to this idea after all. Good job, Rena."

Although the yellow vixen wanted to voice her appreciation, she held up a finger and kept her focus on the screen. Having gathered the name of the retiring chief operations officer, she navigated to the popular social media site FaceSpace and entered the executive's name. In seconds, a list of his online friends appeared on his profile. She noticed the rest of the team around her beginning to fidget in their seats from lack of activity, but she kept her eyes trained on the screen.

One after another, she viewed the pages and discussion threads posted by several of the COO's company friends until she found something. Despite the font on the screen being too small for anyone other than her to see, she turned her tablet around and held it up in triumph. "The finance department is having a retirement party for this guy in two weeks. They're looking for someone to cater the event, and they're also looking for some…" her eyes narrowed, and her voice took on a dark property. "…Adult entertainment. Typical."

For some reason, all eyes turned to Scarlet.

"What? Why are you all looking at me?" the red vixen demanded.

Trying to maintain order, Fox raised his hand and said, "I've got to give you credit, Rena. I'm not sure we're going to find a better option than that if we want an easy way in. Unfortunately, I don't see how we can make this work. How would you do it?"

Somewhat arrogantly, Rena explained, "Well, what I would do is set up a webpage for a catering company in Eladard and then exploit internet advertising codes to spam the company employees' pages with ads for our catering company. If they see us soon enough, they might just give us a call."

"Okay," Fox replied, "You start working on the website, then. Does anyone here know how to cook?"

Only Slippy raised his hand.

"Slippy? You can do that? Be honest—are you any good?" Fox asked.

"Well…how about I cater lunch for you guys tomorrow with that _glorious_ sandwich maker from the Vesper and see how it turns out? I think I'm okay at it, though. I'd eat it."

"You'd eat anything, fatty," Rena growled.

"Hey—at least I don't eat so little that I turn into a walking skeleton like you."

"What did you just call me?!"

Not liking the direction of the conversation, Fox raised his voice and waved the feuding teammates off. "Enough! Slippy, if you can cook, I'll take your word for it. It just has to be good enough for us not to make anyone at the party sick. If we're going to get access to the building by doing the catering, I don't think many of us will be able to get in. Most of the time, only two or three people are there for that. It's just an office party."

"I had an idea," Miyu suggested, pointing at Scarlet. "Isn't she kind of an adult entertainer? Maybe we could find a way to get her hired on for that. That way, two more of us might be able to get in as her 'handlers' or something."

Although Fox avoided stating it, the idea made him feel uncomfortable. Nevertheless, he kept a straight face and asked Scarlet, "Scars, are you okay with doing that?"

The red vixen sighed and curled the corner of her mouth. "You know I stopped doing that a while ago. If I'm going to strip for these people, I'm going to need someone to go along with me on it."

At that moment, the skin under Miyu's fur lost all traces of color. She ducked down to the point where only her nose, eyes, and ears peeked out from the edge of the table. "I take it back. That was a bad idea."

"Oh, it wouldn't have to be you, Miyu," Scarlet reassured her. "I've got a few friends who used to work with me back when I did that in college. One of them lives right next to Fox's dad." She glanced at Fox. "I'm sure you remember her from Christmas last year."

Fox groaned and covered his face with his hand. "Oh no, not Cassie."

"Oh yes," Scarlet grinned. "She would be perfect for this, and she would totally do it."

In spite of Scarlet's approval of the idea, Fox still wanted to shoot it down. Trying to derail the idea, he asked, "How would you get them to hire you and Cassie specifically, though? There are a lot of strippers out there."

"Fox," Scarlet chided, "Did you already forget that I'm almost a household name in Eladard? My pictures are in every Elizabeth's Secret store on the western continent. If the people planning this party found out I was interested in entertaining them, they'd rob a bank if that's what it took to pay me for it."

Miyu shifted her eyes towards Scarlet. "You know, I _thought_ that was you I saw in last month's catalogue."

"Ahem," Fox continued. "I guess it's settled, then. We need to set up website for our catering company, and Scarlet needs to call her agent and get herself and Cassie booked as the party's entertainment. There are a few more things to go over, though."

In response to this, Rena pursed her lips and made an obnoxious motorboating sound with them. "Oh sheesh. Just end the farking meeting already!"

"This is important, Rena," Fox reprimanded her. "We've got to figure out how we're going to travel to Eladard. If we take a normal flight like last time, we're not going to be able to bring our gear with us; but if we take our own plane, the authorities probably won't let us in because they have rules about allowing mercenaries into the country without the right paperwork."

"I know a guy who can take care of that," Scarlet suggested.

"Who?"

"My buddy Felix. He owns the company that sells me my weapons. I'm sure he could get us into Eladard with our own plane."

Looking a bit uneasy, Taiga nudged Fox and whispered into his ear, "Speaking of the plane, the airplane yard says they can't give us our old one back. They're making us take the plane that we 'actually' bought."

Fox scowled and whispered back, "Seriously? The T-401? If they're going to pull that crap on us, they'd better compensate us the C30,000,000 difference between the value of that piece of crap and the plane we sold."

"I'm really sorry, Fox. I don't think there's much we can do about it."

Although he wanted to believe that Taiga was trying too hard to take the path of least resistance, he feared that she had a point. Putting the gloomy, plane-related thoughts aside, he turned his attention back to Scarlet and told her, "If your friend can get us into Eladard, call him up and let me know if it's going to work."

"I'm sure he'll do it," Scarlet replied.

Fox nodded in approval and sat up in his chair. He steepled his fingers on the table, then addressed the group. "All right—thanks for sitting through this, team. We've got a plan now. We just need to execute it. Just so we know what everyone needs to do, I'll go over the assignments. Rena—you work on setting up the website. Scarlet—call your friend in Eladard and get clearance for us, then find a way to get booked for that party. Slippy—make some test sandwiches and see how they turn out. Fix the van while you're at it, too."

Slippy responded with a sad frown. "Sorry about that, Fox. Sorry about the bullets…and the vacuum cleaner."

"It's fine. Just make sure you get the van working again," Fox replied with a quick wave of his hand.

"Uh, Senpai," said Rena, "I've got one problem with the website. I'm good at coding, but I don't know how to do web design."

"That is a problem," Fox muttered. "Is anyone here good at web design?"

Crickets.

"All right then. I guess we'll need to bring someone in to help with the website."

"Hang on," Rena replied, tapping on her tablet screen. "I found someone who might be able to do it."

Fox rested his hand under his jaw and asked, "Who?"

"They're called 'Mystique Graphic Design.' They have great reviews, and it looks like they don't charge that much. Can you call them and set something up with them?"

"I'll have Taiga take care of that," Fox answered, rising from his seat and eyeing the door. "Right now, I've got to go to the airplane yard and figure out this plane situation. Oh—and Rena, I need to talk with you about something later."

* * *

 _-_ § _-_

* * *

Following an absurdly long, frustrating stint at Pigma's airplane scrapyard, Fox returned to his base after parking his team's 'new' T-401 transport plane at the Corneria City International Airport. With the _Vesper_ and the _Great Fox_ gone and replaced by an inferior plane that somehow managed to cost just as much as the other two, he felt the crushing ache of millions of lost credits weighing on both his mind and body.

 _"I should have just kept the_ Great Fox _and made do with the huge runways it needed. This stupid new plane can land on short ones, but everything else about it is worse. It's like trading in an Earth Rover for a beat-up compact. Pigma said it had some 'special features', but I don't know what he was smoking when he said that. It's the Cornerian Army's generic transport plane. What could possibly be 'special' about that?"_

Outside Fox's base of operations, the sun had set long ago. Night ruled Corneria for the time being, and most of the capital city's denizens had turned in for bed several hours ago. Under normal circumstances, Fox would have as well. However, a pressing need prevented him from returning to his apartment—or more likely, Scarlet's—to catch some sleep.

Fox turned a corner in his base and walked towards Rena's room as a digital clock on the wall changed to display a dismal readout of "0100." On most days, Rena could be found wide awake in her room at this hour, usually making some kind of ungodly racket with her guitar or any number of electrical tools that she kept on hand. However, tonight, all was silent; and when Fox approached her door and knocked on it, nothing happened. After knocking for over a minute, Fox reached for the doorknob and realized that it was unlocked. He stepped into the room, only to find it empty.

He raised his eyebrows. _"That's interesting."_

Still looking for Rena, he retraced his footsteps, then recalled that on occasion, Rena would visit the gym room to practice her martial arts or to swim in the lap pool.

 _"If she's not in there, I'm not sure where else to look."_

Walking back to the fork in the main hallway, he turned left instead of in the direction of the main entrance. Fifty paces later, the white walls gave way to a spread of darkened glass on the left. Through the oversized window, the vague outlines of exercise equipment could be seen, with the pool in a separate room behind it and a large spa tub tucked into the back right corner of the exercise area. Fox stopped and peered at the spa, where a single figure lounged.

He sighed and opened the plain metal door to the gym, then stepped inside to find all of the lights off. The quiet operation of the spa tub in the back of the large room counted as the only real noise in the area apart from the air conditioning. As he approached the spa, he laid eyes on Rena. The only reason she could be seen to begin with was because the spa's underwater lighting had been turned on, although it revealed nothing except for a mass of swirling water and the vague outline of her body.

Nearing the spa, Fox slowed his footsteps when he noticed Rena's clothes on the ground in front of it along with her crutch, which she had leaned against the outside of the tub. For several seconds, he locked eyes with her until he finally decided to speak up. "You know, you do have a bathtub in your room."

"Pfft," Rena scoffed. "Yeah, like that compares to this at all. What are you doing in here, anyway?"

Fox crossed his arms. "I told you earlier that I needed to talk to you."

"Hmph. I don't feel like talking," Rena replied. "I've had to deal with enough crap already today."

"Rena, come on."

Rena sighed, causing the water around her chest to ripple. "All right—you can talk to me under one condition: that you get in with me."

Fox grumbled. "Did Scarlet rub one off on you or something?"

"Hell no," the yellow vixen declared. "It's part of my culture."

"I'm pretty sure that doesn't apply to mixed bathing," Fox retorted.

"If you want to talk to me, stop whining and get in. Otherwise, leave me alone. Got it?"

"Fine," Fox relented, removing his shirt and tossing it on the ground next to Rena's clothes before he did the same with his pants and boxers. Wondering how he had managed to find himself roped into this situation, he swung his legs over the side of the spa and dropped into the water across from Rena.

"Good. You may speak now," said the yellow vixen.

Rolling his eyes, Fox explained, "Look, Rena, I heard about what happened at the rally in Titania—about how you buzzsawed those civilians while chasing after the nun. You do know what happened to four of them, right?"

"No. What?"

"They died, Rena. You killed them."

Although she seemed perturbed to Fox, anyone else would have struggled to see the slightest trace of emotion in her icy blue eyes. She crossed her arms underwater and huffed, "That's what they get for being in my way."

"And that," said Fox, with a hint of sadness in his voice, "…is why I'm having this conversation with you right now. Listen, Rena—you're my original teammate. I love having you around. Your skill set is one of the biggest assets this company has. But I can't let you keep doing things like that. There's something I want to make clear to you."

"Yeah, what?" Rena snapped, her voice defensive and angry.

"If you hadn't been the one who stopped President Vinca from being shot, you would be on death row in Titania right now. You murdered four people. Doesn't that bother you at all?"

Rena paused for thought. For seconds on end, she stared blankly into space. Then, she replied. "No. Not really."

A sigh borne out of desperation escaped from Fox's muzzle. "Rena, I've wanted to tell you this for a long time, but I was afraid it would hurt your feelings too much if I put it out there. I think now is the right time to say it."

Rena sat in silence, waiting for Fox to deliver his statement.

"The last time you did something like this that made me and my company look like monsters, I realized that the only reason I kept you around is because I was afraid of what would happen to you if you went off on your own. I still believe that."

To Fox's shock, Rena sniffled and lowered her muzzle to the surface of the water to hide the tears that threatened to spill out of her eyes. "I'm sorry," she whimpered. "I just don't feel anything. I always wanted to understand those things that people like you feel—things like 'compassion' and 'love'. Every time I try to make myself feel something—anything other than anger—I realize even more than before that people are shit. They can die, for all I care. I'm sorry. I know it's not what you want to hear. But it's how I am, and I don't think anything can ever change that." She paused, then begged, "Please, don't fire me. I don't want to go."

Fox hesitated, unsure of what to say next. He stared into Rena's eyes, which for the first time in what seemed like forever radiated fear and apprehension about the future. "I'm not going to fire you. Just…don't kill any more civilians. If you can't see them as being valuable, look at them the same way you look at your computer. You wouldn't want anyone to break it or mess it up. In the same way, those people mean something to their loved ones, just like your computer and your tools matter to you. I'm sad that I have to use that analogy, but you need to understand that I can't let you keep this up."

"I understand," Rena whispered. "I'm sorry that I let you down."

Fox thought about leaning forward and patting the diminutive vixen on the shoulder, but he thought better of it and leaned against the side of the spa instead. "It's okay, Rena. It's not me that you have to worry about disappointing."

At this, a faint smile appeared on Rena's face. Her stiff posture seemed to slacken, and she exhaled in relief. "You're the best, Senpai."

Grateful that the conversation had ended relatively well, Fox breathed a sigh of relief and looked over his shoulder at the hallway adjacent to the exercise area. Through the darkened glass, he saw the outline of a tall-ish anthropomorph with a bushy tail and a clingy, tight-fitting outfit. He gritted his teeth when the outline stopped near the gym entry door.

 _"Oh crap—this is going to be hella awkward."_

On cue, the gym door opened to reveal Scarlet, wearing her standard all-black catsuit. Her ears perked up when she noticed Fox and Rena in the spa tub. Fox feared that the red vixen would scold him for shedding his clothes in the presence of another woman, but then again, this was Scarlet, who tended to react abnormally to situations such as this one.

Scarlet trotted towards the spa, a mischievous gleam in her blue eyes. "Ooh! It's a hot tub party! Count me in!" In a fraction of a second, she reached for her catsuit's zipper and pulled it down.

Rena went bug-eyed and panicked. Throwing water out of the spa and onto the rubber floor, she leaped out of the tub and crashed to the ground. Unable to put weight on her injured leg, she crawled her way to her clothes, threw them over her shoulder, picked up her crutch, and hobbled out of the gym faster than Fox had ever seen a person with a broken leg move.

Her zipper level with her navel, Scarlet crossed her arms and pouted, "She's no fun. She's got a cute butt, though…"

"Don't tell her that, or she'll rip your head off. Looks like I'm not the only one against having hot tub threesomes," Fox joked in response.

"Looks like a twosome will have to do, then," Scarlet replied, shedding her catsuit and undergarments and all but jumping into the spa next to Fox. She looped her arm around his shoulder and pressed into his side, then murmured, "I was wondering what you were doing out so late."

"It's not what it looked like," Fox nervously explained. "I needed to talk to her about her pizza wheel murder spree."

Scarlet snickered and repositioned herself to sit on Fox's lap. She leaned far enough back to rest her head on his shoulder and then commented, "Give her a break. It's not like I haven't done things like that before."

"True, but it doesn't go on my record if you do it. Besides, you've moved on from that. Right?"

Scarlet replied by kissing Fox's neck. "I'm a dangerous woman, Foxie. Don't expect that to change anytime soon."

"I'm taking that ambiguity as a 'no,'" Fox mumbled. He rolled his eyes, knowing that she would not see him do it. "So, how are you feeling about your role in the mission?"

A sigh escaped Scarlet's lips. "You know, I didn't want to go back into that line of work, but I'm kind of looking forward to it. At least Cassie will be there. I'm sure we'll have a good time. Don't take too long on your end, though. I need a ride out of the party, and I'm sure as hell not letting someone ask for any 'favors' by trying to take me home."

Fox responded by brushing Scarlet's velvety hair. "I don't expect it to take very long—at least, not as long as the party is supposed to last. You might even be able to get out early."

"That would be wonderful. Oh—I also wanted to remind you of something."

Unsure of what to expect from her, Fox asked, "What would that be?"

"My swimsuit photo shoot in Zoness is next week. Still feel like going with me?"

Fox scratched the back of his head and mumbled, "I, uh…don't know how my work schedule is going to…"

Scarlet promptly elbowed him in the ribs and moaned, "Come on! Just say 'yes', Foxie!"

"I don't know if I can!" Fox explained. "This job might lead to something really important, and I can't just drop saving the world to go to a photoshoot with you."  
Scarlet giggled hysterically. "You? Saving the world? Ha ha ha! Really, you give yourself way too much credit, Foxie. What could you possibly have that would keep you from coming with me, besides your own silly need to try to control everything in the world?"

 _"Ouch,"_ thought Fox. Still he managed to hide his displeasure from Scarlet and came up with a response that he figured was well reasoned. "Look—in my previous few jobs, I and my team found out that Andross is still alive and working for Macbeth, we exposed Anthracite's chemical weapons smuggling operation, we found and destroyed Andross' old research, and we prevented President Vinca from being shot by a nun. I think we've had quite an impact on the world so far."

"You might be right," Scarlet admitted. "But who's to say that someone else's team wouldn't have done the same things if they had been in our position? I think that at some point, you have to put yourself first and let yourself go a bit."

Fox raised an eyebrow, then commented, "You know, apart from your appetite for sex, you and Rena might have a lot in common. 'Put yourself first' is practically her mantra."

"Hey, it's not always a bad thing to be good to yourself. Come on, Fox—go with me to Zoness. I can rent a private house on the beach, where we can play, drink margaritas, and pretty much do anything we want. Don't you think it would be a nice break from what you've been doing lately?"

Fox sighed. "It would. But still, I'll have to see what happens after this mission. I can't guarantee anything."

"Well, suit yourself," Scarlet replied, a tinge of disappointment in her voice.

* * *

 _AUTHOR'S NOTE(S):  
_

 _I'd like to apologize for any strange formatting problems in this chapter. The site really screwed me over when I tried to load the file for this. Long story short, I had to copy and paste it in, and doing that erased all my formatting. I had to re-space and re-italicize everything in this fairly large chapter, so pardon me if a few lines aren't quite right.  
_

 _Oh, and Scarlet's supplement? Totally the formula she swiped in Andross's base._


	28. Meet Zippy

**Arc VI: Party Crashing**

 _Part 2: Meet Zippy_

After the previous day's frustration combined with his lack of sleep thanks to his conversation with Rena, Fox wished to be back in bed, cuddling with Scarlet rather than continuing with his team's preparation for the upcoming mission to Eladard. Alas, he had no choice but to soldier on.

Although he had assigned Rena with the task of creating a website for the fake catering company they intended to pose as, the yellow vixen point blank refused to discuss the details of the project with the graphic designer that she herself had recommended for helping to build the website. This left Fox with the chore of supervising the designer—a task he had little desire to undertake. Nevertheless, he knew he needed the website up and running as quickly as possible.

Meandering through his base's main hallway near the receptionist's desk, he glanced at his smartwatch and sighed. 9:57 AM—three minutes before the graphic designer's scheduled arrival time. He looked over the top of the nearby counter at Taiga, who had finally decided to wear one of the team's official red and black uniforms. "Rena's starting to piss me off," he muttered. "She was the one who asked for outside help, but she won't lift a finger to meet with them."

The leopardess shook her head and replied, "Honestly, I don't know why you haven't fired her sorry butt yet. It's probably because she's one of your first teammates."

"Yeah, well, maybe," Fox grumbled. "Since she can't come with us to Eladard with her broken leg, she'll have to stay here. I don't expect her to cause any trouble, but just keep an eye on her while we're gone, okay?"

"Yeah, sure," Taiga halfheartedly replied. She reached for a cup of coffee near her computer mouse and raised it to her lips, savoring the flavor for a brief second before an obnoxious beep emanated from a speaker mounted in the ceiling above her. "Looks like the graphic designer is here," she stated. "Good luck, Fox."

"Heh…you're not kidding. Explaining what we're trying to do is going to be really awkward. Hopefully he'll take it in stride."  
Unsure of what to expect, Fox walked towards the base's tinted main entry doors that obscured most of the light coming from outside. Nevertheless, despite their opacity, Fox recognized the figure standing outside the doors. _"What's she doing here?"_ he wondered.

Upon reaching the front doors, he pushed the right of the two panels open and stepped across the threshold into the outdoor air. His eyes were met by a youthful vixen with black hair, form-fitting clothes that obscured almost every inch of fur on her body apart from her face and hands, and her familiar magenta pelt. She held a silver laptop computer in her hands and broadcasted an uneasy expression that made it seem like she was supposed to be somewhere else.

"Mystic? What are you doing here?"

"I'm here to design a website," she answered. "You did call me, right?"

"Um…I guess," Fox replied. "Here—come on in, and we'll get started."

* * *

 _-_ § _-_

* * *

"Are you sure this is legal?" asked Mystic, looking around the dimly-lit conference room, currently occupied only by her and Fox.

"Sure, why wouldn't it be?" Fox replied. "We _are_ going to be doing some catering soon, so we might as well have a professional website while we're at it."

"No—I was talking about the legality of writing fake five-star reviews for your website. I don't feel comfortable with this."

Fox crossed his arms to give the impression or surety and confidence, when in actuality, he possessed neither. "Well, you don't have to do it if you don't want, but I'll pay you more if you write the reviews. Otherwise, I or one of my teammates will have to do it. I think you're better with words anyway. What you've done so far is nice."

Mystic blushed. "Aw, thanks, Fox. You really take after your father, you know."

 _"I don't know whether to thank her or be horrified,"_ Fox thought to himself.

As if she had the ability to read his mind, Mystic zeroed in on Fox's green eyes and stared at him with a wounded expression. "I'm sorry… Did that offend you?"

"No, no, no," Fox waved her off. "It's just—there are a few things about my dad that I don't want to be part of.  
"Like what?"

Suddenly, Fox realized that he needed to tread carefully or risk severing the twisted thread between him, his father, and his future mother-in-law. "Well, no offense to him, but he can be kind of a perv and a goofball sometimes. Nothing against him—it's just that it's kind of…embarrassing."

"I think it's cute," Mystic replied, a smile on her face. "He doesn't act his age, and I like that. You know, if you told me a year ago that I'd be dating someone who's about to turn fifty, I would have puked on the spot. More proof that you can't judge a book by its cover."

"Uh, yeah. Agreed," Fox mumbled.

Sensing an air of disapproval from Fox, Mystic placed her hands on her hips and asked him, "What's wrong, Fox? Is there something you don't like about me? Are you creeped out that I'm younger than you and thinking about marrying your dad? Just tell me—be brutally honest here."

"Please, don't flip out," Fox replied. "It _does_ creep me out. To be perfectly honest, I think you might be trying to play my dad for his money. He's not the richest guy out there, but he does have money; and you'll get most of it at some point if you marry him."

"It's just not true, though," Mystic implored him. "Everyone else I've dated pushed me away because they didn't like my body, or because I have an incurable medical problem, or because I don't have anything that most people want. You dad loves me for who I am, and that's why I love him back. He's given me all the things that everyone else kept from me."  
Fox narrowed his eyes. "What's wrong with your body? You look good to me."

In response, Mystic pulled the hem of her white, long-sleeved turtleneck up to the top of her stomach, revealing three gruesome, two-foot-long scars that looked deep enough to penetrate through every layer of her skin. As if that had not been enough, two bare patches of open skin punctuated her white abdominal fur. Fox stared agape at the vixen's horrifying wounds, then brought his hand to his mouth and gasped, "Oh my…I'm so sorry for whatever happened to you."

Mystic pulled her shirt down again and frowned. "It's okay. I can't do anything about it. I'm just glad I finally found someone who can look past my scars."

At a loss for words, Fox looked away from Mystic and tried to make it seem like he was involved in a set of mental exercises that required intense focus. Of course, this failed; but it did not prevent him from trying. After ten seconds of silence, Mystic resumed typing at her computer, continuing to compose reviews for the catering website.

A moment later, Fox's phone chirped. Moving away from Mystic and towards the exit door, he answered. "Hello?"

 _"Hey, Senpai,"_ a familiar, salty voice replied. _"I'm still mad that you won't let me come to Eladard with you because of my stupid leg, but I came up with a way to be with you anyway. Come to the workshop and meet your new best friend."_

Although Fox had little desire to leave Mystic by herself in the conference room, he figured he would not be gone long enough for it to be a problem. Answering Rena, he said, "Okay—give me a few minutes. I'll be right over there." Then, he closed the call, returned his phone to his pocket, and looked at Mystic. "Hey, I'm going to check on something real quick. I'll be back in a few minutes. Just keep working on those reviews."

"Sure thing, Fox," Mystic mumbled, keeping her eyes focused on her computer screen and her fingers on the keyboard.  
The vixen continued typing while Fox opened the door and walked out. She paused as the door clicked shut. Then, after looking around the room for any cameras and not seeing any, she whipped an unusually rugged phone out of her purse and dialed a particular number. The phone repeated three dial tones before a rich-sounding female voice answered. _"Hello, Mystic. Do you have any intel for me?"_

"Yes, Miss Ortega," the magenta vixen replied, once again scanning the room for the slightest sign of an intruder. "By some unbelievable luck, Fox hired me to do some graphic design work for a website he wants done. There's something weird about it, though. That's why I called you."

 _"Oh? And why is that?"_

"He's got me making a website for a catering company in Eladard. I don't know what he's trying to do, but I think it's pretty obvious that he's going to Eladard soon. I'll ask my boyfriend when I get home. He might know more about it."

The voice on the other end of the line chuckled, _"I think it's adorable how you call that old fox your boyfriend. You've really progressed since you started."_

Embarrassment tinged the young vixen's voice as she explained, "No—I really do love him. I can't explain it. It won't interfere with the mission, though—I promise."

"Mystic," Miss Ortega purred. "Don't worry about him. He's harmless. It's Fox you should be concerned about."

"What do you want me to do about him, then? I know Rafa wants him dead, but I haven't had a window of opportunity where I can drop him and get away with it," Mystic pleaded.

 _"Don't worry about handling Fox by yourself. Leave that to me. All I ask is that you give me a way to track him when he goes to Eladard. You said he was having you build a website for him, yes?"_

"Yes, that's right," Mystic whispered.

 _"Good. In that case, just do what you did when you put together krystalmodel . ele. That should allow me to track him easily. I'll handle him from there while you have fun with your boyfriend."_

With a sigh, Mystic replied, "Thank you. What should I do after you've dealt with Fox?"

Miss Ortega paused before replying, _"I think after all this time, you've eared your reward. After I'm done with Fox, you'll be free to live however you want. Rafa himself has told me that your intelligence on the Cornerian Army's work with the Phoenix Corporation's 'skunk works' has already allowed Dr. Moon to advance our technology by leaps and bounds. After this point, your services will no longer be needed. I'd hate for you to blow your cover after all the exceptional work you've done for Macbeth and East Fortuna. However, if need be, we will contact you if we see an opportunity for you to further our cause. We appreciate your work, Mystic. The East Fortunan Resistance is stronger because of it."_

"Thank you, Miss Ortega."

* * *

 _-_ § _-_

* * *

Conveniently for Fox, the workshop required only a minute's worth of walking for him to reach it. A pattern of yellow stripes crossed over the doorway, warning outsiders of the dangerous equipment inside. Near the workshop was the team's indoor shooting range, although—thankfully for Fox's ears—no one occupied it at the moment.

Uncertain of what to expect from Rena, Fox pushed open the workshop door and stepped into the room, which resembled a garage akin to the kind that auto racing teams used. Near the left wall, Rena sat in Slippy's old wheelchair, which she had already taken a can of yellow spray paint to. To add insult to injury, she had also added a massive spoiler to the back end of the chair, along with a set of overpowered speakers that she had mounted to the sides. An ear-rending mix of cheesy pop and soul-crushing metal emanated from the speakers, creating such an enormous musical conflict of interests that Fox took a step back in a vain attempt at escaping from it.

Rena noticed the effect of her music and pressed a button on the side of the chair, silencing the speakers. She waved for Fox to come closer, then pointed to the linoleum-topped workbench mounted to the workshop's left wall. On top of the bench, a yellow and pink Frisbee-like device sat motionless. As Fox stepped closer to it, his eyes narrowed.

 _"What is that…thing?"_

Rena held out both hands towards the device and replied, "Senpai, meet Zippy." She then reached for the workbench and grabbed a professional-grade remote control unit. Seconds later, the device on the table fired up and lifted into the air. Upon closer examination, Fox recognized it as a quad-rotor drone, except that the frame had been shrouded in lightweight metal that mostly hid the utilitarian rotor design and gave it a bulbous, disk-like shape.

Matching the spirit of its user, the front of the machine bore a cheesy Kawaii face, complete with beady eyes and cartoony teeth that looked like happy counterparts of the shark faces that the Cornerian Army painted on their bombers during his father's days in the military. Two small, insect-like manipulator arms jutted out from the drone's sides.

Fox crossed his arms while Rena guided the drone around the warehouse. To his surprise, the rotors made little noise. He figured that if the industrial-grade air conditioning in the base had been turned on, the drone could sneak up on him if Rena wanted it to.

While Rena continued piloting the drone, Fox asked, "What's the point of this Zippy thing?"

"It's got a camera on the front and the back, and I can open doors and stuff with his arms. I even tried typing with them, and it works."

"I'm guessing you need more than just that remote to do that, though," Fox assumed.

Keeping her eyes on Zippy instead of Fox, she answered, "Yeah. I've got the full control suite at my desk. Zippy has a built-in long range transmitter linked to the Horizon phone service, so he can go anywhere in the world with me in control."

 _"He?"_

"Yes, Zippy is a 'he,'" Rena grumbled. "Have some respect for the little guy. He's not all there in the head."

Fox balked. "Huh? What do you mean by that?"

"Well," the yellow vixen explained, "I did include an automatic mode, but it's pretty primitive—caveman level, actually. Zippy can't even fly straight in automatic mode. He does take commands, though. You have to say them exactly the right way and in the right tone of voice, because if you don't, he won't recognize it."

"Please, just stick with manual mode," Fox replied, keeping his arms crossed.

"I don't see why I'd need to switch over to auto." She re-activated manual mode and guided Zippy back to the workbench, where she landed the drone and powered it off. "That's all I wanted to show you. You can go back to being bored again."  
"Yeah…I'll do that."

Leaving Rena to play with her drone, Fox stepped out of the workshop and navigated back to the conference room, having spent a grand total of five minutes with his eccentric yellow acquaintance. Upon reaching the conference room door, he opened it to find Mystic tapping at her computer as she had been when he left her. "Making any progress?" he asked.

Mystic nodded. "I'm almost done here. You'll have a working website up in a few minutes. There's just one problem, though: since this is a catering company, don't you want some pictures to back that up?"

Fox stroked his muzzle with his right hand and considered her suggestion. "Yeah, I really do want some pictures. Thing is, we haven't actually done any catering yet. Also, it might not be the best idea to have me and my team on the website."

"Why not?" asked Mystic, looking as confused as Fox would have expected her to.

"I don't want to talk about it. How about this—you find some stock pictures of random people and photoshop them into wearing catering outfits and standing in front of those silver food warmers. You can do that, right?"

"That is so wrong, but I can," Mystic admitted. "I'll have to do that at home, though. Not much of a point in me sitting around in here for hours when I can just send you the pictures when I'm done. When do you need them?"

"ASAP," Fox replied. "We're really trying to get this catering thing up and running."

Mystic responded with a nervous head nod. "Okay then. I might be able to have them ready tomorrow. I can put them up on the website for you if you'd like."

"Perfect. Thanks for doing all this stuff, by the way. It really helps."

"Sure—no problem," Mystic replied with a faint smile. Yet, despite her outward appearance that suggested a placid soul, a nerve-rattling sensation of unease set in. Even though she disliked Fox somewhat, she feared for him—and more specifically James—in the event that her employer managed to get her hands on Fox, as she planned to do.

 _"It's okay,"_ she thought to herself. _"I'll just have to be the one to console James when it's over. After that, I'll finally be able to live my own life with him. I'll have everything I ever wanted. It'll be worth it in the end, right? Right?"_

No response came to her silent question except for a ghostly, silent shroud of uncertainty and fear.

* * *

 _AUTHOR'S NOTE(S):_

 _The site is still rejecting my file uploads and forcing me to use the format-ripping copy and paste method, but thankfully this was a shorter chapter. Hopefully this resolves itself later. I have to say, initially, I hadn't planned on the Mystic spy angle, but Elarix kept bugging me about the idea. I'm not sure where it's going to go, actually._


	29. Get Your Mind Out of the Gutter

**Arc VI: Party Crashing**

 _Part 3: Get Your Mind Out of the Gutter_

Ten days passed, with the majority of Foxfire Enterprises' time being spent preparing for their rapidly-approaching mission. Thanks to Rena's work spamming Red Group employees' social media pages with ads for their new catering company and its immaculate website that boasted over forty near-flawless reviews, the team—via Taiga's interpersonal skills—had managed to land the gig as the catering providers for the Red Group's office party.

Meanwhile, Scarlet convinced Cassie to join her as an entertainer for the same party. As the red vixen had predicted, being hired for the job took minimal effort. However, being out of practice, she spent most of her time after her acceptance going over the suggestive dance routines that she had pushed aside for nearly a decade. This included setting up a pole in the exercise room—a move that Fox frowned upon, but grudgingly approved under the condition that she would take it down after the mission had ended.

With the team's catering uniforms assembled, fake Red Group ID tags printed, practice sandwiches made, accommodations scheduled, and Rena's drone tested, the group convened at the Cornerian International Airport near the private airline checkpoint.

As usual, Fox arrived before most of the others, apart from Slippy, at least. The amphibian sat in one of the many plastic chairs in the waiting area, located in front of a large, tinted window that allowed a faint view of the dim, sun-tinged horizon and the Cornerian skyline that punctuated it. Upon seeing Fox, Slippy waved and motioned for Fox to sit next to him.

Fox heeded his request and dropped into the chair that faced the private airline checkpoint, currently vacant in the early hours of the morning. Seeing only Slippy in the waiting area saddened him somewhat, knowing that Rena tended to arrive before everyone else—when she was part of the mission at hand, at least.

Noticing a growing awkward silence in the waiting area, Fox looked at Slippy out of the corner of his eye and said, "Good job on fixing the van. I wasn't sure how I was going to get the weapons crate to the airport last night to load it into the plane. Oh, thanks for fixing the weapons crate too, by the way."

"Eh, it's what I do," Slippy replied with a cavalier hand wave. "So, let me get this straight before everyone else shows up—what exactly do you want me to do during the mission? Miyu's going to be doing the catering and Scarlet's going to entertain the guests, so where does that leave me? Do you want me to get into the Red Group's main facility with you and Rena's drone, or do you want me to stay with the party? Please say 'stay at the party.'"

Fox rolled his eyes, knowing full well why Slippy wished for him to say that. "Hey—if I had the choice, I'd rather stay at the party and watch Scarlet, too; but we've got a job to do. Our fake IDs are only going to get us so far, so we'll need to find an alternate way to get into the more highly secured areas in the Red Group facility. That's why I need you to come with me. I wish I could have even more help, but everyone else is going to be tied up at the party."

"Well, at least with just us and the drone, it'll be easier to be stealthy," Slippy hinted.

"Sadly, Rena's yellow and pink drone paint scheme isn't very stealthy. It _is_ very quiet, though."

The conversation came to a halt as Miyu walked through the terminal doors and rounded the corner into the waiting room. "Oh, hey guys! Sorry I'm late—Fay overslept again and almost killed us both on the way over here by driving so fast."

Fox smirked. "You're fine, Miyu. We'll leave as soon as Scarlet and Cassie get here."

Walking towards the seat next to Fox and sitting in it, Miyu leaned towards the vulpine and asked, "Who is this 'Cassie' person anyway? Do you know her?"

"I thought Scarlet told you her Christmas story not that long ago. She was part of it."

"Ohhh…Miyu trailed off. "So, she was the one who teamed up with Scarlet to keep you pinned in a naked hot tub threesome."

"Please, don't remind me of that. I could have died."

"Died of what? Embarassment?" Miyu chuckled.

Fox shook his head, a grim expression on his lips. "No—I could have died from hypothermia after running naked through the woods to get back to my dad's house."

Miyu pictured the scene in her mind and giggled again. "You didn't have to do that, silly."

"But I did! If I didn't break free, I wouldn't have been able to apologize to Fara!"

Locked in conversation, Fox failed to notice the two visitors entering the terminal until one of them spoke up. "Hi, Fox!"

Fox sat bolt upright and looked up. Fifteen feet in front of him, two shapely canids stood next to each other. One of them, of course, was Scarlet, while the other brought back memories of his ill-fated Christmas party. Scarlet's guest, an arctic wolfess with snow white fur and matching, shoulder-length hair waved and walked towards him. She wore a petite, red sundress, while Scarlet elected to wear a sleek, navy blue catsuit made out of a lycra and polyester mix that added a faint, accentuating shine to her curves.

"Cassie!" Fox halfheartedly exclaimed, standing up out of courtesy. Not knowing what to expect, he trudged towards her, only for the she-wolf to throw her arms around him and pull him in for a tight hug.

She took the liberty of giving him a kiss on the cheek, then laughed, "It's so good to see you again! We're going to have so much fun in Eladard."

"This isn't fun and games," Fox replied, trying to avoid blushing after being suddenly kissed. "Scarlet _did_ tell you why we're doing this, right?"

"Of course she did," said Cassie. "It doesn't mean we can't have fun, though. Right, Scars?" She turned around and looked at her friend, who gave her a thumbs up.

Fox rolled his eyes. "Come on—let's go. The party isn't for two more days, so we'll have time to relax and get ready before then."

* * *

 _-_ § _-_

* * *

The long flight from Corneria to the western continent that held Eladard, Titania, Katina, Venom, Papetoon, and Macbeth gave the group plenty of time to rest, chat aimlessly, and consider the upcoming mission. Thanks to the time change from reaching the west by going east, Fox calculated his arrival time as 8:00 PM Eladard time. He partially regretted having a full night of sleep the day before, because he knew from experience that it would take quite some time for his body to adjust to the dramatic difference in time zones.

With Eladard thirty minutes away, Fox shuffled in his 'new' plane's pilot seat and looked out the front windows at the vast expanse of ocean that lay between him and his destination. Scarlet sat to his right in the co-pilot's seat with her boots on the floor next to the chair. While Fox kept an eye on the T-401's instrument cluster, Scarlet pulled her legs to her chest and set to work trimming her toe-claws.

Fox looked at his companion and frowned. "Really? You're just going to drop toenail clippings on the floor like that?"

Scarlet shrugged. "Sure. What? It's a cargo plane. It's all but impossible to keep clean anyway."

"That's disgusting, though."

"Oh, be real, Fox—there are _plenty_ of things we do that are disgusting. We just don't think about it that way."

"Such as?"

Raising her eyebrows, Scarlet replied, "You really want to know? Well, you asked for it! One thing that's actually pretty disgusting when you think about it is how foxes like you and me like to eat meat. Just think about that the next time you eat a chicken sandwich. That chicken fillet used to have blood and guts in it and lived in a nasty pen." She paused before her face shifted into a crooked grin. "…And speaking of eating meat, _that's_ pretty disgusting too, but you don't hear me complaining about it."

"Point made," Fox admitted. "Does your mind _always_ go straight to the gutter, though?"

"Unfortunately, yes. I tried having someone install some gutter guards to keep the gunk out, but they didn't work," Scarlet joked.

"I figured," Fox grumbled. He scanned his instruments to ascertain that all of his plane's systems were functioning correctly, then he leaned back in his seat and pointed to a strange looking button on the top of the plane's instrument panel while looking at Scarlet. "You know, I can't figure out what that weird button up there is supposed to do."

Scarlet abandoned her toenail clipping and leaned forward to get a better view of the button, which upon closer examination vaguely resembled an eyeball with blue streaks running down the sides from the center. The blue center of the button pulsated every few seconds, as if begging for someone to activate it. "Why don't you press it, then?"

Fox's face stiffened in fear.

"What? Afraid that it's going to turn you into a bowl of petunias?" Scarlet quipped.

"No," Fox answered, "But what if it's a self-destruct button or something? There's no way to know what it'll do. It's not in the manual or anything."

"You read the manual? Because that's sooo manly," Scarlet mocked. "Do you trim your chest fur, too?" She broke into a smile and added, "I'm just kidding, Fox. I know you keep your fur thick and plushy—just the way I like it."

Fox smiled back and replied, "I like your plushy fur, too. But about the button—it's just…there…for no real reason. It must be one of those special features Pigma kept telling me about when he forced me to keep this dumb plane. I don't think he even knows what it does."

"Well, there's only one way to find out," said Scarlet, a gleam in her eye.

"No! Don't!"

"Aw, come on—live a little!" Scarlet whined, standing up and reaching for the button.

"Scarlet, no!"

Fox jumped to his feet and threw his arms around Scarlet's waist in a frantic attempt at holding her back, but to his horror, she held out her hand and slapped the button. At first, nothing seemed to happen, but a mere second later, a faint whirring sound filled the airplane.

"What have you done?" Fox groaned, holding his head in his hands.

"I have no idea. It's not doing anything…yet," Scarlet replied.

Three seconds later, the sound of a hand pounding against the cockpit partition echoed through the plane's hollow interior. Masked by the door, Slippy's shrill voice called out, "Fox! The right wing just disappeared! What did you do up there?"

"I don't know," Fox answered. "Scarlet pressed the mystery button, and something happened. You say the wing just…disappeared?"

"Yeah! It's like the plane's got a cloaking device or something!"

Suddenly, reality dawned on Fox. "Hang on a second—is it possible that this thing has active camo? Pigma said this thing used to be a development mule for the Phoenix Corporation, so maybe they left one of their experiments in it when they got rid of it?"

"It's possible," Scarlet replied, reaching for the button and pressing it again. "I think we'd better save the battery—or whatever they use to power that thing."

Still shocked that such a device might have been equipped in his new plane, Fox crossed his arms and shouted to make his voice heard through the cockpit partition. "Hey Slippy! Is the wing back now?"

"Hang on—let me check," the amphibian replied, sprinting towards the nearest viewport in the side of the T-401's hull. A moment later, he jogged back to the front of the plane. "Yep, it's back. Wow, Fox—how did you get that installed in the plane?"

Shaking his head, Fox reclaimed his seat in the pilot's chair and answered, "It came with it. That could really come in handy later."

"I'll say," Scarlet concurred before dropping into the co-pilot's seat and looking out the front windows. Fluffy cumulus clouds obscured much of the evening sky in front of the plane, but after a number of minutes, the clouds broke, revealing a vast metropolis that stretched almost as far as the eye could see. From far above the ocean, Fox and Scarlet saw the entire narrow isthmus that the city-state of Eladard occupied. The tiny area (compared to most other countries, at least) separated the southern nation of Macbeth from Katina to the north while providing a vast free trade port that every nation on the Western continent—in addition to Corneria on the east—used to move and store their wares.

The Eladarian government's policy of political neutrality, combined with business-friendly legislation, provided the perfect venue for multinational corporations and banking institutions. These two sectors alone accommodated nearly half of Eladard's workforce and also had the effect of altering the nation's populace. At the time of arrival, nearly a third of the city-state's ten million residents registered as immigrants or work-related visitors. Despite this, Eladard's indigenous culture—which Rena hailed from—remained defiant in the face of change. This resulted in an unusual dual culture, with the original Eladardians retaining their own language and customs, which they continued to use alongside their internationalist neighbors such as the man whom Scarlet had arranged the team's accommodations with.

Fox and Scarlet's moment of reflection came to an abrupt end as the voice of the Eladard Central Airport's air traffic controller came through the cockpit speakers, beginning the landing cycle.

* * *

 _-_ § _-_

* * *

After manning the pilot's seat for the entirety of the flight from Corneria to Eladard, Fox felt grateful not to be driving. As the sun dipped below the horizon, obscured by Eladard's innumerable high-rise buildings, he sat in the second row of seats belonging to the oversized cargo van assigned to pick him and his team up from the airport and transport them to their arranged quarters. Scarlet and Cassie sat next to him on the cloth-covered bench, while Slippy and Miyu occupied the third row in front of the team's weapons crate that held their weapons, ammunition, and Rena's drone.

The van's driver—an imposing bull mastiff wearing an immaculate black suit and a tie—seemed not to be one for conversation, judging from his complete lack of speech after helping Fox and his team into the van. His own intimidating presence dissuaded Fox from speaking to him to begin with, which left him with turning to Scarlet for answers to the questions he held about Eladard and Scarlet's friend, whom had been responsible for giving them clearance to enter Eladard to begin with.

Whispering into the vixen's ear, he asked, "What can we expect from your friend here?"

At this, Scarlet let out a quiet sigh and explained, "I think we can expect a nice, secure place to stay. However, there's one thing I have to admit about my friend Felix." She paused before whispering, "He's my ex. He was the guy I was seeing before you."

Fox gave her an uncomfortable expression, but she silenced him with a hand wave and added, "Now hold on—we had a mutual breakup a year ago. I'm not interested in getting back together with him. Just understand why it might be a bit awkward when we meet him; although technically, you already _have_ met him. He was at last year's Christmas party, if you remember."

"Got it," said Fox. "How did you get him to let us into Eladard, though? Did you promise him some 'special favors' or something?"

"No, you silly fox. He helped us because I'm his friend; and also because I'm one of his contracts. We had a great business relationship before we had…you know…a real one. I get all my weapons from his company. He always gives me the best rates. Come to think of it, this might be an opportunity to see if you can get your company on his VIP list. I guarantee his stuff is better than that Phoenix Corp. garbage you're using now."

"Hey—easy. It's not that bad," Fox protested.

Scarlet rolled her eyes, although she knew better than to press the 'Fara button,' since she knew full well that Fox used the Phoenix Corporation's tools and weapons because of his late fiancée's affiliation with the company. "Sure—it all looks shiny and it works for awhile, but when it starts to wear out, you start to see what their weapons are really made of. They're overpriced crap, if you ask me. Besides, do you really think your wonderful father-in-law is going to keep you on his contractors list after your little episode at the funeral?"

Fox eyes flared wide in anger. "Hey! How did you find out about that?"

"Miyu told me," Scarlet snickered. "She can't help but spill a nice, juicy piece of gossip when she's got one."

"Last time I ever trust her with my secrets," Fox grumbled under his breath. "I'll take a look at what your friend has to offer, and I'll make my decision based on that. Do you know where he's going to have us stay?"

Stroking her muzzle, Scarlet answered, "He told me he'd have to figure it out, but he said he'd try to fit us in at his guest house. He's got a sweet pad—his house, the guest house, and an outdoor garden with a pool on five acres of prime downtown real estate. If that doesn't work, though, he said he could find us some rooms in one of the hotels he owns."

" _One of_ his hotels?"

"He's a successful man, Fox," Scarlet purred. "Unfortunately, it's made him kind of boring."

"Is that why you broke up with him?" Fox pressed.

Scarlet frowned. "Technically, it was mutual, as I said. It's not something I want to talk about."

"That's okay. I was just wondering."

"It's fine, Fox."

* * *

 _-_ § _-_

* * *

After meandering through the cramped, congested downtown streets for twenty minutes, the driver pulled the van onto a stone driveway largely obscured by a mass of ivy plants that covered a twenty-foot wall. The structure stood in stark contrast to the dark gray, metallic theme of the buildings that surrounded it. From a distance, it seemed like a random mass of plants amidst a modern city center, but when one moved closer, it started to look more like a residence—or more specifically, a manor.

The narrow stone driveway led to a pair of solid, heavy, wooden doors with a code box on the right side. The driver pulled up to said box and rolled down his right side window, pressing a series of buttons that caused the two doors ahead to swing open. Behind the doors, an opulent, two story house stuck out from between swaths of small, manicured trees planted in gaps in the stone walkways that surrounded the house.

The house itself sported an ergonomic, modern design that eschewed a traditional sloped roof in favor of a flat-topped appearance, replete with corners that stuck out beyond the wall-sized windows that lined the right portion of the house's second floor. With the light on, Fox noticed an arrangement of expensive specialty furniture in the glass-walled room. As the van drove past the house, a slender vulpine figure walked into the room and observed the van through the glass wall.

Farther along the driveway, a second house came into view. It looked smaller than the first one, but not by a significant margin. It shared the same architectural style as the first one, with a wood-sided lower level that contained two garage doors and an upper level composed largely of glass. The distance between the two houses was bridged by a lush plant and flower garden that surrounded an outdoor swimming pool.

The van came to a stop in front of the second building, and the driver beckoned for Fox, Scarlet, Cassie, Miyu, and Slippy to climb out. As soon as all four set foot on the stone driveway, Fox motioned for Slippy to help him open the back of the van and remove the weapons crate. As the small, rubber wheels reached terra firma, Fox's ears swiveled in the direction of the first house.

A quiet set of footsteps clapped down the driveway towards him; and seconds later, a thin vulpine appeared, wearing a professional-looking business suit and tie along with a pair of thin, rectangular glasses that rested on the bridge of his nose. Fox turned to greet him, but Scarlet beat him to it and lunged towards the sharp-dressed vulpine.

"Hi, Felix!" she shouted, jogging towards him and giving him a gentle hug that elicited a blush from him.

Feeling a bit embarrassed, the vulpine took a step back and replied, "Hello to you too, Scarlet. It's been a long time since you were here." He looked at the rest of the group in front of him asked, "This is the rest of the team, right?"

"That's right," said Scarlet, pointing towards Fox. "Felix, this is Fox. He leads this group."

"Actually, I think we've met before," Fox mumbled, scratching the back of his head.

Felix nodded. "I think I recall that, too. I'm glad it worked out for you to stay here. I had an alternative energy executive scheduled to visit this week, but he bailed out at the last minute. His loss is your gain, I suppose. The guest house here is all yours. It has four bedrooms, although the couch in the living room pulls out if two of you really can't stand to share the same room.

"Oh, that won't be a problem," Scarlet grinned, shuffling over to Fox and nudging him with her hip.

Seeing a window of opportunity, Cassie looked at Fox and implied, "Hey—I wouldn't be opposed to getting in on that, too."

For a moment, the air in front of the guest house became silent. Fox's eyes widened, while Felix shook his head and let out a low grumble from the back of his throat. Miyu and Slippy looked at each other, wondering if Cassie had actually meant what she seemed to say or if the readers' minds had simply gone into the gutter.

After five seconds of the most awkward silence Fox had experienced in quite some time, Scarlet smirked and told Cassie, "I'm all for it. Fox is probably going to flake out, but that's not your fault."

To solidify where he stood, Fox waved Cassie off and declared, "No, no, no—I don't care how amazing that fanservice would be. It's just a bad idea. You'll have to make do with your own bed, Cassie."

The wolfess looked at the ground and pouted, "Aww…you're no fun."

While Scarlet walked over to Cassie and whispered something into her ear that seemed to raise her spirits again, Felix glanced at Fox and gave him a subtle nod of approval.

"Uh, guys?" Slippy suggested, "Can we just go into the house already? This is getting weird."

"Yeah, right with you, Slip," Miyu added.

Felix took the initiative in stepping towards the group, pulling out a set of keys in the process. Starting with Fox, he handed one of the keys to each of his visitors, explaining, "Here are the keys to the house. Please don't try to copy them. Just give them back when you leave. Also, if you look at your keys, you'll see a button on the back. That's for the front gate in case you want to run out and pick something up. Please take care of them, okay?"

"Thanks," Fox replied. "I might have to get something later. I've got a bad headache from the flight over here."

"If you need to do that, there's a drug store a half mile up the road, that way." Felix pointed beyond the guest house. "I think there's a generic medicine cabinet in the guest house, but I might be a bit low on some of those things. Oh, and Fox, I'd like to meet with you sometime soon. I'll let you get settled in tonight, but if you have time, I'd like to set something up for tomorrow."

Fox shrugged, not knowing what to expect from Felix's so-called 'meeting.' "I think I can do that. Thanks for helping us out. Before Scarlet suggested calling you, we weren't sure how we were even going to be able to get into Eladard."

Crossing his arms, Felix explained, "Well, I owed Scarlet a few favors. Consider us a bit closer to 'even' now." Speaking to the group, he implored them, "Have a nice stay, team."

"Uh…thanks, Mr. Felix!" Slippy croaked, digging out his key and heading for the closest entry door on the side of the guest house. Miyu followed suit, with Cassie tailing both of them inside. Preparing to enter the house and locate some kind of headache relief medication, Fox turned towards the door and stopped when Scarlet made no attempt to follow him.

Without words, he gave her a curious, confused stare, which prompted an answer from her. "Go on in, Fox. I need to talk with Felix for a little while. Don't worry—it won't be long."

Although he felt suspicious about the nature of Scarlet and Felix's meeting, Fox obeyed her and walked into the house from the first level's side door. Closing it behind him upon entering, he stepped into a small entryway that forked off into three directions. To the right were two of the house's bedrooms, up ahead was a set of stairs that led to the second floor, and to the left was a sizeable living room, replete with comfortable furniture. Slippy and Cassie lounged on the couch, watching an anime show on the large flatscreen mounted to the wall. Miyu sat at a small table in the back of the room and occasionally glanced at the TV. However, she kept the majority of her mind focused on her phone screen, which displayed a humorous internet video which she watched with small earbuds protruding from her ears.

Still feeling the effects of his headache, Fox walked through the living room. He took a glance at the television and recognized it as a show that Rena spent too much time watching, even though it offered little appeal to him. Leaving his teammates—and Cassie—behind, he entered the kitchen and flipped on the lights in search of the medicine cabinet. His hands rifled through the numerous cupboards and cabinets throughout the kitchen, revealing glasses, plates, spices for cooking, and finally the cabinet that he had been looking for to begin with.

A slew of over-the-counter medications lay spread out in front of him—allergy pills, pink bismuth stomach solution, cold and flu medications, throat lozenges, and a jar of multivitamins, but nothing resembling a headache medication.

Frustrated, he clutched his head with one hand and grumbled to himself, _"Looks like I'd better find that drug store."_ He glanced at his smartwatch, which displayed a time of 9:01 PM Eladard Time—more than likely early enough to make it to the store before it closed.

He turned around and walked back into the living room, where he announced, "I'm going to the drug store. Do any of you need anything?"

"I need some peanut W&W's," Slippy answered. "There's no candy in this house."

"Ok. I'll pick those up. Miyu? Cassie? Do you need anything?"

Failing to respond to—or for that matter, even notice—Fox, Miyu slapped her leg and cackled at the video on her phone screen. Fox considered walking over to her and stopping the video to ask her the question again, but he elected against it.

While Miyu continued watching her video, Cassie told Fox, "I could use some tampons. Would you mind getting those for me?"

"Er…I don't know," Fox mumbled, scratching the back of his head like he never had before. "I think you're on your own with that."

"Great. Thanks, Fox," Cassie huffed.

"Hey—I don't know how I'm supposed to pick those things," Fox retorted, walking towards the front door. "Why don't you see if Scarlet will let you have some of hers?" With that, he stepped out of the house and closed the door behind him.

Keeping one eye on the television screen in front of the couch and the other on Slippy, Cassie laughed and told the amphibian next to her, "Scarlet was right—he's so cute when he gets embarrassed! Oh, I'm going to have to dog him until his face is red for days."

Without bothering to make eye contact, Slippy asked, "Are you always this forward? You know Fox is taken, right?"

Cassie gave him a playful nudge and implied, "Sure, but Scarlet doesn't mind if I have a little fun with him, too."

" _Awkward,"_ thought Slippy, sliding towards the edge of the couch.

* * *

 _-_ § _-_

* * *

Fox walked back towards Felix's main gate, key in hand. As his feet clapped against the stone driveway, he shook his aching head and thought about Cassie. _"As if_ one _Scarlet wasn't enough, now I've got to deal with_ two _of them. I guess it could be worse."_

On the way to the gate, he passed the property's main house. He looked upwards, hoping to peer through the glass siding on the second level and see Scarlet and Felix; but to his disappointment, neither seemed to be present. Not only that, but the lights inside had also been turned off.

A growing feeling of unease took root in his mind. No matter how much Scarlet affirmed that she had no desire to reunite with Felix, Fox did not trust her. The thought of approaching the house and ringing the doorbell crossed his mind, but when an additional surge of stinging pain shot through his head, he gritted his teeth and turned towards the main gate. Opening it with the button embedded in the back of his house key, he left the property and stepped onto the sidewalk in front of Felix's tall, ivy-covered perimeter wall.

The surroundings struck him as being quieter than he would have expected in such a tight, urban environment. Numerous cars and motorcycles traversed the road, but the gaps in the traffic suggested that this particular area lacked the extreme congestion indigenous to the rest of the metropolis.

Following Felix's vague directions to the drug store, Fox plodded along the sidewalk, admiring the tall buildings that seemed to line every street corner. The split personality of the city stood out to him in the LED displays mounted on the buildings, the billboards that encroached upon the roads, and the bilingual street signs. It seemed that half of the displays screamed out their messages in a character-based language with searing, bright colors, while the more 'traditional' (for Fox, at least) banners attempted to rein in the madcap excess of the native Eladardian décor.

While traversing the sidewalk, Fox half expected to see one of Rena's relatives walk by; although if he was honest, the native Eladardians seemed far more 'normal' than she did. Felines, avians, and the occasional canid or vulpine composed most of the native populace, although the vast number of foreigners in the city-state created a more diverse population overall.

After a few minutes of walking, Fox reached a crosswalk. The road directly ahead of him sported four lanes of travel, but the street that intersected it only appeared to have one wide lane. To the left, he spotted a logo that read 'Pharmco' in a multiplex built into the side of a long, concrete building. The basic lettering was flanked by a red medical cross and a cartoonish representation of a blue and white pill.

" _There it is—finally."_

With no traffic pulling onto the one-lane road, Fox jogged across the intersection and set foot on the sidewalk in front of the multiplex. Five cars sat in front of the long building—mostly compact hatchbacks, a type of vehicle that seemed overwhelmingly popular in the cramped, overpopulated city. Fox took note of the numerous open curbside parking spaces, a detail suggesting that the pharmacy would be largely unoccupied. As he neared the door, the light from another car reflected off the building wall to his right.

He remembered what happened the last time he ignored the Law of Conservation of Detail and turned towards the car. He locked onto it, recognizing it as a blue Subaki Aereza—an Eladard-built compact sedan popular in Corneria. He half-expected something sinister to happen, because there was no way the author would bother to include a completely unimportant detail such as the car.

To his relief, the vehicle motored down the narrow road, then disappeared around a left turn three hundred feet ahead. Fox shrugged, then walked up to the pharmacy and opened the front door.

After spending three minutes in the pharmacy and emerging with a bottle of headache relief capsules and a bag of peanut W&W's for Slippy, Fox exited the pharmacy with a plastic Pharmco bag in his hand. He retraced his steps back up the sidewalk, preparing to cross over the narrow street and set foot on the sidewalk that would lead all the way back to Felix's house. As he walked, he passively looked at the same five cars parked alongside the building and wondered why he had felt such trepidation after seeing the random car pull onto the street.

Lost in his thoughts, he failed to notice the boxy, black hatchback parked on the opposite side of the street with its driver's side window rolled down. As he neared the crosswalk and prepared to sprint across the road, a whistling sound tickled his ear. Before he could fully put his focus on it, a sharp, stabbing sensation rifled through his neck. By reflex, his hand reached for the source of the pain and grabbed the pain-causing object. He looked at his hand, only to realize that he was holding a tiny, black and yellow dart.

At that moment, extreme drowsiness fell upon him. His legs buckled like a cheap deck chair being sat on by a morbidly obese hippopotamus. He dropped his bag and fell to the pavement with a muffled, intoxicated groan as his vision grew dark. Struggling yet failing to remain conscious, he looked in the direction of the black hatchback in time to see a woman climb out and walk towards him.

"That was too easy. I expected a bit more fight out of you, Fox. Oh well—you're mine now."

Then, everything went black.

* * *

 _AUTHOR'S NOTE(S):_

 _I'm sure you remember Felix from_ The Oasis. _Don't expect him to go all manic depressive and *spoiler hidden for those who didn't read_ The Oasis* _this time around._

 _I feel like there should be some kind of contest to see who can be the first person to name twenty Easter eggs or references to other media in this story. Eh, it probably won't happen, but those references are definitely out there._


	30. Role Reversal (No, not that kind)

**Arc VI: Party Crashing**

 _Part 4: Role Reversal (No, not_ that _kind)_

Fox's consciousness returned, but his eyelids felt like they had fused together. His sensory receptors returned dulled sensations to his brain, leaving his short-term memories incomplete. He felt himself sitting on something soft and comfortable with his back against a hard surface. To his dismay, however, he found himself unable to move either his hands or feet. As his level of alertness increased, he recognized the faint stinging of ropes tied around both extremities.

" _Oh, dammit—what happened to me?"_

Focusing his mind on one thing and one thing only, he snapped his eyes open and cringed. He recognized his surroundings as a small, generic hotel room, painted in a bland shade of light beige. He sat in the middle of a queen-sized bed with his back against the headboard. As he feared, a thick strand of rope held his feet together; and although he could not see his hands behind his back, the similar feeling of rope eliminated any possibility of moving. As the fog began departing from his mind, he recalled the turn of events that occurred after leaving the drug store.

" _At least I don't have a headache anymore,"_ he thought to himself, trying to find a silver lining in his situation.

Seconds later, his ears perked up as the bathroom door on the opposite side of the hotel room opened, revealing none other than Krystal. She wore a pink bath robe with the top portion opened just enough to be flirtatious, and her wet hair and fur suggested that she had just finished showering. As soon as she saw that Fox was awake, she gave him a goofy smile and said, "Finally! I thought you'd never wake up!"

Shocked and angered at his kidnapper's identity, Fox gasped, "K…Krystal? What are you doing?"

The vixen leaned against the bathroom door frame and returned a sly grin. "I felt it was time for some role reversal. Think of it as revenge for what you and Onyx did to me in Katina."

A low growl emanated from the back of Fox's throat. "I thought your revenge for that was trying to kill me with that bomb you planted on your tracking bracelet."

"I'm truly sorry about that," Krystal whimpered, softening her eyes to reflect her sadness. "It wasn't my idea."

"Then who's was it?"

"It was Rafa's," Krystal replied. "I tried to dissuade him, but he wouldn't be stopped. You don't know how happy I am that you're still alive."

Fox's ears perked up. "Wait—so, you were with Rafa this whole time? That explains how you knew so much about him."

"Yes, that's all true," Krystal confirmed, walking towards the bed. "But I don't want anything to do with him anymore. That's actually why I brought you here. I'm saving your life."

"What?" Fox blurted out.

"Rafa assigned his best assassin with the job of tracking you here and killing you. I knew that if she got her hands on you, you'd never survive; so I did everything I could to catch you before she could. Thankfully, she doesn't have telepathy. That was the difference maker." She paused before adding, "Unfortunately, I had to destroy your phone to keep her from tracking me and you here."

"How do you people keep following me?" Fox snapped, feeling as though he would be hounded by Rafa and his goons no matter what he did to avoid it. "Did you hack the DIS database in Corneria and download my files or something?"

"It was lot simpler than that," Krystal grinned. "But for now, I'll just say that we have our ways of getting to you if we want. Fortunately, you're safe with me. Miss Ortega won't be getting you tonight."

Fox's eyebrows lifted at the mention of the enigmatic woman's name. "So, there _is_ a Christina Ortega, then. I've got a lot of questions for you."

With a quiet, mocking laugh, Krystal retorted, "You don't look like you're in a good position to be asking questions, Fox. You look a bit tied up to me."

"Haha—very funny. Now, can you cut these ropes? Thanks."

In response, the blue vixen wagged a finger at him and said, "I don't think so. You'd run off the instant I did that. Do I look like a pillock to you?"

"Um, what does that even mean?"

"Never mind," Krystal grumbled. "The long and short of it is that you're not going anywhere until I'm confident that I can trust you."

"Trust me to do what?" Fox demanded, struggling against the ropes tied around his hands and feet.

Krystal put her hands on her hips. "Trust you not to run off on me. I don't recall you doing me any favors when I was in your position, so I'm not going to give you any, either." Giving Fox a faint smile, she climbed onto the bed and lay down awkwardly close to him, knowing that he lacked the ability to do anything about it. The vixen rolled onto her side and breathed on Fox's face, then whispered, "You know, things could be a lot worse for you right now."

"Enough already! What do you want from me?"

"Oh, hush now, Fox," Krystal chuckled. "Don't make me use one of my sedatives on you. All I want is for you to calm down so we can have a civil conversation."

"A conversation, huh? _That's_ what you want? What kind of conversation are you talking about?"

Trying to appear nonchalant, Krystal replied, "I wanted to tell you everything I know about what Rafa and Miss Ortega are trying to accomplish, but if you're going to be difficult, I suppose I'll have to keep it to myself."

Her response seemed to change Fox's attitude in the blink of an eye. "Whoa—what?"

"I thought that would get your attention," Krystal purred.

Shifting his face into an apologetic expression, Fox pleaded, "I'm sorry for giving you a hard time. Please, tell me everything."

"Well," said Krystal with a smile, "Since you're here in Eladard, why don't I tell you what the Red Group is building for Rafa and Miss Ortega?"

"What are they working on?"

Krystal sat up and rested her back against the headboard. "I'll admit that I was not privy to everything they were a part of, but I did pick up on quite a bit of it. There are two projects in particular that stood out to me. Both are part of the Red Group's R&D program. One of them is an advanced battle tank with anti-air capabilities. It also has the ability to hover and can travel over twenty kilometers per hour faster than the current fastest production tank. They gave it some kind of number-letter name that I can't recall, but everyone involved with it called it the 'Landmaster.'

"Landmaster, huh?" Fox muttered. "What's the other project?"

"The other one," Krystal explained, "Is a seventh generation air superiority fighter. I actually got to see it in person, and it is beautiful."

"Wait…hold on," Fox interrupted. "The Cornerian Army just revealed their new _sixth_ generation fighter. How can they be on seven already?"

"A lot of money and a lot of willpower," Krystal answered. "It's called the F/S-11. The brass who designed it called it an 'Arwing.' Again, I don't know everything that went into it, but it's supposed to be able to outmaneuver practically any airborne threat and counter it with a suite of experimental weaponry. The design staff claims that a squad of these fighters would be virtually invincible against current fighters and anti-air weapons. Both the Landmaster and Arwing were built exclusively for the East Fortunan military. They have a deal with the Red Group to not release the designs to anyone else."

A look of concern and mild confusion crossed Fox's face. "You're talking about these things in past tense. Are you saying they've already been built? How are they paying for the research, anyway?"

"I'll answer both of those," said Krystal. "As for the first question: yes, they've already been built. The first production Arwing is scheduled to be delivered to a Titanian PMC with the ability to transport the fighter into East Fortuna. The Landmaster on the other hand… I don't think they've started full production yet. I do know they have a working prototype in their facility, though."

The vixen took a deep breath and continued, "Both projects were bankrolled by Miss Ortega. Her pockets are very, _very_ deep. In fact, she's East Fortuna's biggest financier. Rafa is the military leader of East Fortuna, but she's the mastermind behind it all. The East Fortunan revolution and the attack on Northpoint were both her ideas to begin with. Rafa simply became the face of the movement in her place."

Feeling a sense of hatred for the mysterious woman, Fox asked Krystal, "What does this woman look like?"

A small grin graced Krystal's lips. "She doesn't look like much, honestly. It's probably why she likes to stay hidden as much as possible. Like Rafa, she's an island fox, but she has a fur problem that makes her have to itch herself constantly. It's quite embarrassing, really. She's also short and doesn't have any real…assets, if you know what I mean."

Krystal's implication caused Fox to look at the front of her partially-opened bathrobe—a reflex that he quickly regretted when she smacked him on the nose. "Naughty naughty, Fox."

Fox blushed, but made no attempt to apologize for his predisposition to the male gaze. "What about Andross? Does he have a role in this?"

Pursing her lips, Krystal looked to the side and mused on Fox's question. Then, she returned her eyes to him and replied, "I honestly have no idea what you're talking about."

"If that's so, then why is the COMMERCE bloc demanding that Macbeth release him as part of their weapons negotiations?" asked Fox, narrowing his eyes. Beneath the surface, he felt that he had cornered Krystal in a topic that she wanted to avoid talking about.

"Misinformation," Krystal answered. "Either that, or I'm just not aware of anyone by that name."

Fox was far from convinced. Pressuring her for the truth, he asked, "Then who's designing these so-called 'experimental weapons' that East Fortuna supposedly has?"

"That would be Dr. Desmond Moon."

"Well, that's a relief," said Fox, "He's dead now."

Krystal looked at him like he had lost his mind. "No, I think he's very much alive. Are you sure the tranquilizer from earlier isn't making you hallucinate?"

"No," Fox affirmed. "I found him in an abandoned base in Fichina. He'd been shot, and it looked like he had been dead for hours. He even left a video explaining what he was doing there. It was Andross's old base, just so you know."

Furrowing her eyebrows, Krystal stroked her muzzle in thought. With uncertainty, she replied, "I don't know anything about this base you're talking about. I _do_ know that I saw Desmond recently, and he was definitely not dead. I'm not sure what to tell you about what you saw."

A sinking feeling began building in the pit of Fox's stomach. _"Maybe I shouldn't have destroyed all those files, after all."_ He paused for thought, then shook his head and asked Krystal, "Since you were so close to Rafa, do you know what he's really after? I don't get it. Why does he want me dead so much?"

"That's an easy answer. He wants to kill you because he sees you as a threat. Considering how you've already ruined several of his plans, I thought you would have realized that by now. Now, what does he want? That's another question entirely; and it's a lot simpler than you probably think. The long and short of it is that he wants East Fortuna to be recognized as its own country, and for Northpoint to be ceded to it. He also wants to build an alliance with Macbeth and Titania to re-establish the power structure of the old Macbeth Empire. That isn't looking very promising right now, though."

"Yeah—like he's going to get Corneria to cede Northpoint to him," Fox muttered, rolling his eyes.

"I don't think it's going to happen, either. However, the East Fortunans _do_ have some claim to it.

A venomous stare summed up Fox's response.

"I'm serious, Fox," Krystal explained, "You see, at the time when the Macbeth Empire started falling apart, the Cornerians took the opportunity to annex Northpoint into their own country. Macbeth and the East Fortunan provincial governor didn't have to power to keep them from doing it."

"I didn't expect you to be one for history," Fox mumbled.

"And why is that? Do I look dumb to you?"

Fox cringed, trying to form a response as the telepath sitting next to him gave him a black stare. "I…well…I thought you looked a bit too um, young to care about things like that. You're also a model, so…"

"Never judge a book by its cover," Krystal warned. "You know, I feel like I need to make it clear that I'm not helping you because I like the Cornerians. I can hardly stand them. I'm doing this because I like you and because Rafa has started acting out of character lately."

"How so?" Fox inquired.

"He's started acting really…well…emo. He walks around with a horrid, brooding attitude and lashes out at nearly everyone around him. I don't think his mind is in a good place. The East Fortunan rebellion started out with noble ideas, but under Rafa, I feel like it's starting to lose its focus. Miss Ortega feels the same way. Part of Rafa's goal for East Fortuna is to set up a nuclear program, and Miss Ortega wants none of it."

Fox shook his head. "I don't think anyone's safe with nukes in _his_ hands."

"To tell you the truth, it's part of the reason I cut ties with him," Krystal admitted. "I think his power went to his head. It's why I've decided to help you."

"If that's what you want to do, why don't you let me out of these ropes?"

Krystal climbed off the bed and walked back towards the small closet near the back of the room. She opened the door and pulled out the same blue catsuit she had previously borrowed from Scarlet's suitcase without her permission. Then, she looked back at Fox and answered, "Just a few minutes. Let me get changed first."

Fox begrudgingly held his tongue as she walked into the bathroom and closed the door behind her. A minute later, she emerged, wearing the blue catsuit. "All right—you've been a good boy, so here's your reward." Approaching the bed from the front, she untied the ropes around Fox's feet, then walked around to the side and set to work freeing his hands.

The instant the ropes fell off, Fox shook his hands to relieve the ingrained stinging sensation. "Thanks. Look—I know you probably want to keep me here for some reason, but I really need to get back to my team. They're probably freaking out about me right now."

Krystal looked into Fox's eyes with an expression of concern that turned into a sly smirk in a matter of seconds. "Hmm…I think you really just want to get between your red friend's legs before she decides to go to bed. You know, Fox, I wouldn't expect your relationship with her to last very long."

Fox blushed so furiously that it could have made a red giant star envious, but his embarrassment quickly turned to anger. "What? Why would you say that? We're great friends! Get out of my head!"

"Oh, but mind reading is so much fun," Krystal replied, pacing the floor next to the bed. "I may only know Her Redness from the few hours I spent with you and her on the way back from Katina, but I know a flake when I see one. She's just using you for fun. You know that, right?"

"That's what I thought before, but when we got to know each other better, things changed."

"I assure you that nothing's changed," Krystal declared, shaking her head in amusement. "As a single woman who's been single for a long time, I may not be the best at giving relationship advice, but I suggest that you look at your relationship for what it is: a good time that isn't going to last very long. You _know_ I'm right."

Fox let out an angry sigh and then snapped, "Fine. But you can't blame me for wanting that good time to last longer. I'm going to do everything I can to prove you wrong now, by the way."

Krystal leaned on the bed next to Fox's side and warned him, "If you have to force it, it was never meant to be."

Fox returned a faint nod, ushering in a brief silence that ended when Krystal extended her hand and offered it to Fox. "Come on. We can go now if you'd like. I don't know where you're staying, so you'll have to show me."

"Can't you just read my mind to find out?" Fox asked, somewhat mockingly.

"Reading your mind won't give me the directions to get there."

"That makes me wonder—where are we, anyhow? Are we in the same part of town where you shot me?"

"I'm afraid not," Krystal replied, shaking her head. "You were in the northwest part of the city, but I took you to the north end. It was the only way to make sure Miss Ortega didn't find us. Don't worry about her, though. She's been thrown off the trail for now. You'll be safe."

"What about you?" Fox asked, his voice implying a sense of concern for his blue captor. "I'm assuming you're going to leave after you drop me off. Are you going to be okay?"

Putting her hands on her hips, Krystal scolded Fox and insisted, "I'm a big girl, Fox. I'll be fine."

"I'm sure. I'm just concerned because it wasn't very hard for Onyx to capture you in Katina. I'm afraid Miss Ortega will do the same thing to you if you let your guard down."

"I won't let my guard down, then. Also, couldn't the same thing be said about you? You didn't even put up a fight against me earlier." She shifted the tone of her voice to sound vaguely erotic and added, "You were _so_ easy."

"For only spending a few hours with Scarlet, you're starting to sound an awful lot like her," Fox implied.

"She's quite the pervasive one, isn't she?" Krystal smiled. "I'm just toying with you, Fox. We should probably go now."

Krystal helped Fox up, and after he set foot on the carpeted hotel room floor, he looked into Krystal's eyes and quietly asked her, "Where are you going to go after this? Rafa's going to be coming after you too now."

A sigh escaped from the vixen's lips. "Don't worry about me, Fox. Worry about yourself. We'll be in touch."

"How is that possible? You destroyed my phone and took away any chance of calling me."

Giving Fox a sly grin, Krystal whispered, "I have my ways of getting what I want. I'll call you when I need to."

* * *

 _-_ § _-_

* * *

After struggling to show Krystal the way back to Felix's estate, Fox climbed out of her car and waved goodbye. Krystal blew him a kiss, then drove off without looking back. Shaking his head and looking at his smartwatch only to see a time of 11:57PM, he dug into his right pocket and located the special key that Felix had entrusted him with. He pressed the small button on the back of it, causing the solid estate gates to swing open.

His feet clapped against the hard stone driveway as he made his way back to the guest house, passing Felix's house and the pool and garden area. Both locations seemed as quiet as the grave. No lights were on in Felix's house, and the only natural sounds in the vicinity came from the crickets chirping in the garden. Fox felt equally bothered and relieved at the same time—bothered, because his teammates seemed to have consigned themselves with the fact that their leader was missing; and relieved, because if he was quiet enough, he figured he could avoid having to explain the details of his evening to any of them until the next day.

With the silence of a ninja, he tiptoed up to the guest house's front door and inserted his key into the lock. He pushed the door open, breathing a sigh of relief when it refrained from squeaking. Glancing into the living room and then into the hallway to the right of the entry, he looked for any signs of life and saw none.

" _They all must have gone to bed. Good for them. I half expected Scarlet and Cassie to be blasting loud music and partying instead of sleeping."_

He leaned to the right and stared down the nearby hallway opposite the living room. Two doors stood out to him, and both of them were closed. Seeing this, he figured that his bedroom would be on the top floor. To avoid making any undue noise, he slid his boots off and gently placed them next to a coat closet just inside the front door. Then, he crept up the stairs. Every other step was greeted with a faint creak from the wooden floorboards.

He gritted his teeth and kept the weight of his steps as low as possible until he reached the top of the stairs. He noticed two rooms that looked like bedrooms, one on each side of the hallway that ran perpendicular to the stairs. Not knowing which one belonged to him, he picked the one on the right and walked towards it. He stopped short of the closed door, when he noticed a piece of paper on the floor in front of him.

He knelt down and picked up the paper. His eyes struggled to read it in the darkness, but he managed to make out, "I'm in here, Fox," in Scarlet's handwriting.

Feeling relieved that his harrowing evening could potentially be brushed aside as a mere case of getting lost in the Eladardian metropolis, Fox grasped the doorknob in front of him and turned it. He walked into the room and stopped inside the doorway.

Suddenly, a pair of lamps mounted to the top of two nightstands on each side of the room's bed turned on, bathing the room with a blazing yellow glow. The light illuminated the bed and revealed both Scarlet and Cassie, tucked beneath the sheets and staring at him with two pairs of mischievous eyes.

"Surprise!" Cassie giggled. "What took you so long?"

Fox's expression dropped into an abyss of disbelief. "Oh, no—not this again."

"Oh yes, Fox," said Scarlet, giving him a sadistic grin. "We are going to cuddle you so hard. Don't even think about backing out—unless you like the idea of sleeping on the couch downstairs. Oh whoops, I forgot—the cushions seem to have disappeared. I wonder how that could have happened."

"Girls, I just need to get some sleep. Please, Cassie, leave."

"No can do, Fox. I 'accidentally' locked my bedroom from the inside, and I can't find a key to get back in," the she-wolf lamented.

A low growl emanated from the back of Fox's throat. "You two are insufferable, you know that?"

"And we wouldn't have it any other way," Scarlet replied with a toothy grin. "Come on, Fox. I promise we'll keep it PG-13. Pretty please?"

For a moment, Fox paused and looked around the room. He considered scouring the house for the 'missing' cushions and sleeping on the couch in the living room, but when he realized that such a search would potentially create enough noise to wake Miyu and Slippy, he admitted defeat.

"Oh, fine."

At that point in time, Krystal's advice about his relationship with Scarlet returned to his mind; and he considered that the blue vixen may have been right. Perhaps he was taking his relationship with Scarlet a bit too seriously and holding onto it too tightly when it had little chance of lasting forever. The thought of losing what he now possessed disappointed him, but for the moment, he felt determined to enjoy it for as long as he could. Besides, being cuddled to sleep by two attractive canids struck him as a far more appetizing option than sleeping on a couch with no cushions.

* * *

 _-_ § _-_

* * *

Meanwhile in Corneria, Rena awoke after a poor night of sleep. No matter how long she wore it, the cast on her leg still felt clunky and unnatural. She prided herself on the modifications she had made to Slippy's 'D-Wheelchair,' but she still yearned to walk again. Worse yet, she felt like her current physical state was not enough of a reason for Fox to keep her from traveling to Eladard. Her wheelchair offered her more mobility than some healthy people possessed, and she had no difficulty moving around with it.

Despite being an introvert of introverts, she felt lonely in Fox's base. Only Taiga and Edgar manned the facility in the rest of the team's absence, and she liked neither of them. The same was true of Taiga and Edgar for her, as well. The Red Group infiltration would not take place for another full day, which left Rena feeling purposeless for the time being.

Sighing, she shifted beneath her sheets and snuggled with her collection of plush toys, taken from the official line of collectibles licensed by the makers of a wildly popular video game that revolved around catching and battling monsters. Yet still, she felt hopeless and lonely. She knew better than anyone else that being trapped in a void of isolation caused the most paranoid and impulsive elements of her personality to flare up, but she knew of no way to resolve her growing tension.

Then, something occurred to her. Reaching over to her dresser and inadvertently knocking an oversized, pink, dragon-like plush off the bed, she slid open the top drawer and pulled out a small, yellow sticky note with a ten-digit number on it. With the note stuck to her finger, she used her other hand to grab her phone off the nightstand. She dialed the number on the sticky note, only to recoil in shock when she noticed her hand shaking.

" _Why am I so nervous about this?"_

Determined to overcome her inner anxiety, she pressed the 'call' button. Two connection tones echoed through her ears. Then, a quiet, raspy voice spoke. "Hello? Who's this?"

"Hi, Lucas. It's me, Rena."

Lucas's initially harsh voice softened in the blink of an eye, reaching an almost gentle tone. _"Rena… I thought you'd never call."_

"I got lonely. My senpai forced me to stay in Corneria while the rest of the team flew off to Macbeth."

" _Isn't that where you're from?"_ asked Lucas.

Rena all but shouted into the phone, "Don't rub it in! I'm mad! I think he's just trying to punish me for something I did back in Titania."

" _Care to spare the details?"_

Sighing, Rena explained, "I sliced through a few people while I was chasing that nun out of the auditorium where President Pantsuit was speaking. Four people died."

" _Rena…"_ Lucas murmured, patronizing her in the nicest possible way, _"You're better than that. You could have killed so many more of them."_

"I know, Lucas. I know. Wait— _what?!"_

Quiet chuckling from Lucas's end of the line filled Rena's ear, bringing an angry grimace to her face. "I hate you. You are scum. I thought you should have known that by now."

" _Love you too,"_ Lucas countered. _"So, you're lonely? What can I do to help?"_

"I don't really know," Rena sighed. "I kinda just wanted to talk, but if you're anywhere near me, maybe you could come and visit later? Where are you, anyway?"

" _I'm where I said I'd be. I'm in the International Archives in Zoness. It's why I'm talking so quietly right now. Libraries, you know?"_

"Oh, libraries. Fark me. Why do those places even exist these days?"

Lucas paused for thought, then answered, _"I'm not sure, but this one probably isn't going anywhere—ever. It's the biggest repository of books and manuscripts in the entire world. Want to know what I've found out about your 'friend' Rafa's family?"_

"Yeah, sure," said Rena, disinterestedly.

" _Basically, there are so few sources on the Ortega family that it's almost suspicious. From what I did manage to find, though, it appears that the Ortegas were vassals of the Macbeth Empire almost two hundred years ago. They were the provincial rulers of the East Fortuna region, and just like Hartmann thought, they were really loaded."_

"How loaded?" Rena inquired, still not sounding particularly interested.

" _Like, 'buy a small country' loaded,"_ Lucas answered. _"I have no idea where they got their money, but they sure had a lot of it."_

"That doesn't make sense, though. Think about it: I knew Rafa, and he was always dirt broke. There's no money there."

" _There's a reason for that. You see, the oldest surviving family member was the one who had control over the entire bank account. That might mean that Rafa isn't the only Ortega left."_

Rena's ears perked up. "So, you're saying there might be something to this 'Christina Ortega' thing, then? My senpai has been talking about her a bit lately."

" _I have to warn you,"_ Lucas replied, _"This is where things stop making sense. The best source on the Ortegas that I could find was a biography written by the son of the Ortega family's butler at the end of the Macbeth Empire's dominance. The author talked a lot about someone with that exact name—Christina. He said that she was a strikingly beautiful woman who kept herself locked up most of the time because of allergies, of all things. The weird part is that during the butler's entire forty year career of working for the Ortegas, Christina never seemed to age. The Ortega family's manor was in Northpoint, and it was destroyed in a fire when Corneria invaded the city and added it to their territory a hundred years ago. None of the family members in the house were ever seen or heard from again. Sadly, because of the fire, almost everything that they kept inside their manor was destroyed. No one knows where their money went, either."_

"Besides going to the East Fortunans, you idiot," Rena grumbled.

" _Besides them, of course,"_ Lucas apologized. _"I found one picture of the Ortega family, taken a month before the fall of Northpoint. I made a copy of it, and I can send it to you if you'd like. They were all island foxes, like Rafa. The picture shows them standing in two rows with the elders in the back and the younger Ortegas in the front. What's weird is that one of the women on the back row looked way younger than the others—even younger than the people in the front. She didn't look older than 25. Unless that was just the way they took that picture, something seems odd about that."_

Although she knew Lucas could not see her reaction, Rena rolled her eyes and juggled one of her plushes with her free hand. "Uh huh. In other words, you're telling me there's a 150-year-old woman pulling the strings behind all this. Get real, Lucas."

" _I_ am _real,"_ the jackal insisted. _"I don't know what to make of this, either. All I know is that someone related to Rafa is funneling money into East Fortuna's operations. If we could find them and get rid of them, the EFR forces would be crippled immediately."_

"I'll keep an eye out for them," Rena replied with a tone of voice that made it clear that she had no interest in doing that at all. "How much longer are you going to be in Zoness?"

" _Eh, I think I've dug up everything I can find here, so I think I'm going to be heading out today."_

"Where are you going?"

" _Probably back home to Papetoon,"_ Lucas answered.

Aghast, Rena blurted out, "You _live_ in that hellhole? What is wrong with you?"

" _The Papetoon desert is a peaceful place. Maybe you should come and visit sometime."_

"I don't like sand. It's coarse and rough and irritating and it gets everywhere. And that's a bad movie line. You know what? You should visit me in Corneria. There's a lot less grainy, itchy nastiness around here, as long as you don't count Slippy's jar of liquid ooze that's been sitting in the break room fridge for weeks."

Lucas paused for a second. _"I'll think about it. It's not like I've got anything else going on right now. That might be…"_ he trailed off, _"…Oh crap—a library attendant saw me. They don't like phones. Gotta go."_

He abruptly hung up, leaving Rena with a silent phone held up to her ear. Frowning, she dropped her phone on the bed next to her and leaned back into the cocoon of pink and yellow pillows propped up against her headboard. She reached for a large, green and yellow serpentine plush and dropped it on her lap, stroking it while pondering her conversation with Lucas, whom she swore she had a plush toy of somewhere.

* * *

 _AUTHOR'S NOTE(S):_

 _ **Rena's Public Service Announcement:** _

_Don't be a stupid fark. Please don't play Pokémon GO while driving. Or on roads. Or near creepy back alleys. Catching that Zangoose isn't worth being beaten and robbed, or getting run over and creating a class action lawsuit that ruins the game for everyone else._

 _ **In response to the Guest reviewer from the previous chapter:** _

_It appears that Krystal agrees with you._


	31. And You Thought Skidd Marx Was Bad

**Arc VI: Party Crashing**

 _Part 5: …And You Thought Skidd Marx Was Bad_

"Hold on—say what? You were kidnapped by Krystal last night?" an incredulous Miyu asked.

In the back seat of a taxi headed towards the Eladard International Airport, Fox shook his head and replied, "Yeah. Turns out she just wanted to spill some information about East Fortuna. She told me that she was working with Rafa, but doesn't want anything to do with him anymore. Of course, she also broke my phone when she captured me, which is why we're going back to the plane to get a replacement."

Miyu looked out the side window at the buildings as they streaked past. "Seems like a lot of effort just to give you some information."

"Well, she said she had to do it to help get me away from Miss Ortega, who as it turns out is a real person after all. She also said something about it being revenge for her being captured in Katina a few weeks ago."

"Of course," Miyu groaned. "You know, if she wanted to help you, why didn't you invite her to join the team?"

Fox twitched in his seat, not comfortable with the feline's idea. "Because I still don't trust her. I can tell there's more than meets the eye with her. I think she's got her own agenda—one that's separate from Rafa and the East Fortunans."

"How do you know that?" asked Miyu, looking at Fox out of the corner of her eye.

"Just a gut feeling I had when I was talking to her. I'll play along with it for now, but I'm going to get to the bottom of this eventually."

After fifteen minutes of travel, the taxi stopped at the airport. Fox and Miyu climbed out, then navigated through the airport, clearing themselves at the private aircraft terminal before walking outside onto the concrete pavement behind the airport. The team's new transport occupied the largest space on the airport's outermost terminal, but its pedestrian appearance failed to set it apart from the smaller aircraft near it. As much as the plane's surprise cloaking device pleased Fox, the T-401's bland exterior paled in comparison to that of his previous two planes. Apart from the red, winged fox logo on the tail fin, one could have easily confused it for a Cornerian Army cargo plane.

Fox led Miyu up the personnel ladder and into the aircraft, where he quickly beat a path to the small area in the back of the plane where he kept some of his spare combat gear and technological devices. Thanks to his communications equipment's tendency to fail at the worst possible time, he made sure to bring at least three spare communicators with him. Opening a metal tool chest which he had bolted to the floor, he pulled out a replacement smartphone and powered it on. While Miyu paced up and down the floor behind him, he stood in place for minutes on end, entering his information into the device and setting it up as a replacement for his now-destroyed phone.

After setting up his applications and ascertaining that everything was satisfactory, he slid the phone into his trousers, only for the device to chirp a second later. He half expected to a barrage of text messages and missed calls to bombard him all at once. After all, he had been away from his old phone for over fifteen hours. However, only one text message appeared.

 _From: ELE-40-30-205_

" _Hi, Fox. I told you I had my ways of getting what I wanted. Here's some more information about the Landmaster that I was able to pull up. They're keeping it in the product development workshop inside the Red Group's main facility. I've sent a blueprint of the building's floor plan to your email if you're interested. Good luck!"_

Fox shook his head in disbelief, but when he opened his email application and checked his messages, he found an email from 'KrystalModel' with an attachment that, when opened, displayed a comprehensive readout of the Red Group's headquarters. He did not notice any other attachments, which—he felt—precluded any malicious intentions on Krystal's part.

Nevertheless, he felt the need to respond to her earlier text. "You'd better not be tracking me again."

Half a minute later, his phone chirped again, indicating a response from Krystal. _"I'm not going to answer that, but I deleted the tracking bugs that Rafa was using to follow you. You can say 'thanks' now."_

"Thanks," Fox jokingly replied. He waited for a moment in anticipation of another response, but thanks to the open-ended nature of text messages, none came. Sliding his phone back into his pocket, he walked towards the plane's exit door, motioning for Miyu to follow him back out.

* * *

 _-_ § _-_

* * *

After a day of preparations, the 'party crashing' operation commenced. While Miyu picked up a rented van and drove to the Red Group's main office building with Slippy's catering equipment in the back, Fox, Slippy, Scarlet, and Cassie piled into a small luxury car, which Felix had provided. Fox and Slippy's plan for entering the building focused on acting as Scarlet and Cassie's 'handlers,' ostensibly to provide security for the two entertainers.

Of course, once inside, they had no intentions of staying at the party. Thanks to Krystal's information, Fox now possessed a full digital map of the Red Group's facility, which he stored in both his phone and smartwatch. He also knew where to find the prototype Landmaster tank. The only issue was reaching the heavily secured location inside the facility where it was kept. Both he and Slippy had fake Red Group ID tags that looked legitimate enough to the naked eye, but both of them knew that said tags would not offer them any access to restricted areas.

In minutes, the four reached the Red Group's main facility—a twenty-story office complex built in front of a manufacturing plant that assembled the company's prototypes and limited-run projects. Noticing an expansive parking lot just off the main street, Fox pulled into it and backed the car into a spot where he felt a quick exit would be convenient. He had a feeling that it might have been a good idea.

He turned the car off, then looked over his shoulder at Scarlet and Cassie, both of whom had dressed up in matching uniforms that included an overly-tight, somewhat translucent white button-down shirt as the top and a medium-length black skirt below the waist. "Are you ready to go, girls?" he asked.

"Of course we're ready," Scarlet smirked. "Right, Cassie?"

"Heck yeah!" the wolfess replied, raising her fist in the air.

Fox fiddled with his black blazer's lapels and then opened his door. "Let's do this, then. Miyu should already be inside setting up the catering equipment. Let's hope they like your sandwiches, Slippy."

Climbing out of the car, Slippy adjusted his tie before looking at Fox with a mischievous gleam in his eye. Fox knew that gleam—it was the same one he saw when Slippy transformed into 'Skidd Marx' in Katina. Or rather, he _would_ have seen the gleam if Skidd's cheap, black sunglasses had not been hiding it.

" _Oh no,"_ thought Fox.

Confirming his worst fears, Slippy walked up to him and replied with an accent that sounded nothing like his normal voice. "I don't know who thish 'Shlippy' pershon ish. I'm Pond—Jaymsh Pond."

"Fuck my life," Fox groaned, rubbing his head in consternation.

Walking alongside Fox and Pond, Cassie glanced at the amphibian's attire and commented, "Nice suit, Pond."

"Thanksh, Casshie," Pond replied.

Cassie and Scarlet giggled at his accent and walked on ahead towards the building's front entrance, ignoring the surly frown on Fox's lips.

" _Unless his new persona gives him special powers, I am going to choke him half to death after this is over,"_ thought Fox.

The front doors at the bottom of the Red Group's tower had been left open for the arrival of the partygoers and the entertainment for the evening. The four entered the lobby on the bottom floor and stopped in the center of the room, where a sign that read "Oscar Heinlein Retirement Party" pointed to a pair of elevators built into the left wall.

After riding it up a single floor, Fox, Scarlet, Pond, and Cassie stepped into the hallway outside the elevator. Directly across the hall from the elevator was an opened door. Inside, party streamers and a massive cake on an office table could be seen. A single guard stood in front of the door. A hulking elephant wearing a black stretch shirt and matching black trousers, he blocked access to the room, crossing his six-inch diameter arms in the most intimidating way possible.

"ID's, please," he rumbled, not changing his stance.

"Oh, hi there," Scarlet replied, digging into her purse, which she normally avoided carrying except in the rare case when she chose not to wear a catsuit. After rifling through multiple lipstick rollers, feminine trinkets, and numerous AA batteries, she produced her ID card and showed it to the guard. "We're the entertainment for this party."

"And what about them?" the bouncer asked, narrowing his eyes and pointing to Fox and Pond.

"Them? They're our handlers. They need to stay with us to make sure we're protected."

The guard narrowed his eyes even more, to the point where they looked more like slits than narrowed eyes. "I don't think so."

"Let me tell you something," Scarlet growled, putting her hands on her hips and taking a step towards the elephant. "It's in my contract that they come in with me and my friend. If you don't let them in, old Mr. Heinlein won't be getting a striptease tonight. You got that?"

"Fine," the guard huffed. "But I assure you, if I see either of these two doing anything suspicious, they're out of here—along with you. _You_ got that?"

"Yeah, we got that," Cassie interjected, cutting Scarlet off from forming an angry response that could have ended badly. "Let's get set up, guys." She grabbed Scarlet's hand and yanked her into the room.

Fox and Pond followed the two ladies into the party area—a large meeting room with a noticeable lack of furniture in the center of the floor, where two brass poles had been set up. A long plastic table stood at the back of the room. Three silver catering heaters sat atop it, and Miyu stood behind the table, dressed in a professional-looking black outfit complete with a dress shirt, khakis, and an apron. As the party had not started yet, she kept the event's food covered.

Fox stopped in the center of the room and looked for a second exit door, but saw nothing apart from a few of the party's organizers, a large window on the right side of the meeting room, and a sign on the wall near an opening that read 'Restrooms.' Unfortunately, he did not see an exit door other than the one which they had used to enter the room.

Pond noticed the same set of details and motioned for Fox to come closer, and when he did, Pond whispered into his ear. "Thish ish looking grim already. We need to find a way pasht that guard at shome point. I don't shee another ekshit in thish room."

Fox thought about his options for a fraction of a second, but a more pressing matter weighed on his mind at the moment. "Slippy, seriously, you need to drop that accent. This is ridiculous. I am _not_ going to put up with another Skidd Marx. Besides, it's making the spell checker go crazy."

"Shorry, Foksh," Pond replied, looking wistfully towards the window. "My tie ish making me do it."

"The heck? Your _tie?_ Take it off, then. It looks like it's trying to choke you."

"I tried, but it'sh too tight. My shtubby fingersh can't undo the knot."

"Then let me try," said Fox, not bothering to wait for Pond to approve his actions. He reached for the amphibian's tie and threaded his claws through the tiny creases in the fabric, then gently tugged at the knot. To his horror, however, the tie refused to budge. In fact, it somehow managed to become even tighter.

"Good going, Foksh," Pond shnapped. "Now it really _ish_ choking me!"

"Sorry! I don't know what the hell is wrong with this thing! Are there any scissors around here?"

"No, not the schishors! This ish my only tie!"

Fox slammed his palm into his muzzle. "Why did this have to happen now? You'd better have secret agent powers or something if I'm going to have to put up with _that._ "

"I will not dishappoint," Pond stated.

"I'm going to get a sandwich," Fox muttered under his breath, walking over to Miyu's catering table. As he neared it, he noticed a nondescript black bag next to the feline's foot. "Ah, good—I see you brought Zippy," he noted.

In return, Miyu rolled her eyes and shook her head. "That thing is the dumbest piece of crap I think I've ever seen. You're the boss here, but if I had any say in this, I'd tell you to chuck that thing in a trash can. I don't see what it brings to this 'mission,' if you can call it that."

"Rena really wanted to be part of this, so it's her way of getting in on the action," Fox replied. Plus, an extra set of hands is always useful."

"You mean an extra set of tiny robotic pinchers? I don't see what those are going to do."

"We're going to find out, aren't we?"

* * *

 _-_ § _-_

* * *

An hour passed. The party room filled up with over thirty guests celebrating the Red Group COO's retirement. Above the noise of the myriad conversations taking place at the party, the sound of pumping house music reverberated through the airwaves, originating from a seat of speakers in the back right corner of the room, where a short rodent stood behind a digital turntable, wearing an oversized, exaggerated cartoon headdress intended to look like a rat's head.

Thanks to the relatively small size of the room, Fox and Pond managed to blend in amongst the well-dressed patrons while waiting for their opportunity to flee the room. Looking at the exit door from Miyu's catering table, Fox watched the elephant standing guard at the door and waited for him to make any kind of movement.

To his disappointment, no such movement occurred. The pachyderm hardly moved at all in the fifteen minutes that Fox stared at his back. Clearly, the guard took his job seriously.

Fox turned to his right and locked eyes with Pond. He opened his mouth to speak, but before any words came out, Scarlet sauntered over to him and planted a quick kiss on his cheek. Instead of talking to Pond, Fox faced the red vixen. His eyes took in her tantalizing figure and her outfit that had been arranged to look like it needed to be stripped out of in the most enticing way possible. "Hey Fox," she said with a smile. "Cassie and I are about to get started. Too bad you can't stay to watch the whole thing." She put on a sad, pouty expression to match her words.

"I'm sure you can arrange an encore performance for me later," Fox replied before his voice took on a serious tone. "Scars, we've got a real problem here. I don't see a way out of this room other than the main door. We can't get past Biceps with him guarding the door, and if we make too much of a commotion, the whole gig is up."

Scarlet's face hardened. She stroked her muzzle in thought, then suggested, "The music in here is going to be pretty loud while we're performing, so I don't think you'll have much to worry about there. Are you _sure_ there isn't another way out?"

"Not a direct way out, at least. My map of the building says that the bathroom wall in the handicapped stall is on the other side of a storage closet. I guess we could punch a hole through the wall if we needed to, but that would make so much noise that it might still blow our cover."

"If that's the only option, you might have to use it. Nobody's going to be running to the bathroom while we're performing, though. If they are, well, what does that say about them?"

Fox crossed his arms. "I'm not sure I want to answer that. I guess if there's not another way, we'll take out part of the wall. Hopefully we can move quickly after that, though. I have a feeling our cover won't last long if we leave a gaping hole in the wall."

"I'm sure you can think of something to cover it up," Scarlet purred. "Oh—we're about to start. Good luck, Fox!"

Fox watched as Scarlet and Cassie made their way into the center of the room and addressed the crowd. At that point, he knew the time had come to act. He placed a hand on Pond's shoulder, then subtly pointed towards the bathroom doors built into the right wall. Pond nodded while Fox grabbed the black bag containing Zippy and navigated through the small crowd of people who had gathered around the catering table.

As they entered the bathroom, the music in the party area increased in volume. The thumping bass and drums overpowered all other noises in the air, indicating that Scarlet and Cassie had begun their performance. As much as Fox would have preferred to stay in the room and watch, he kept his mind focused on his objective and pushed open the door to the men's restroom.

Closing the door behind them, Fox and Pond scanned the room for any signs of activity. Finding none, Fox breathed a tense sigh of relief and latched the deadbolt on the bathroom door to prevent anyone from entering.

"Sho, what'sh the plan?" Pond asked with his hands on his hips.

"We're going to cut through the wall in the handicapped stall. Hopefully we won't make too much of a mess."

"But…you didn't bring any toolsh," Pond noted.

"That's where Zippy comes in."

Placing his black bag on the ground, Fox unzipped it, revealing Rena's pink and yellow drone. He pulled it out of the bag, then placed it between the two sinks near the door. Thanks to Rena's instructions from before he left Corneria, he knew where to find the button to power on the drone. His fingers slid along Zippy's metallic underside until he felt a tiny indentation, which he pushed.

The instant he pressed the button, the LCD screen positioned above Zippy's "eyes" flickered into life, displaying a webcam image of Rena sitting behind her desk back in Fox's base.

The yellow vixen's voice emanated from Zippy's tiny built-in speakers, which gave it a thin, tinny property. "Hello, senpai. Took long enough, did you?"

"Come on, Rena. I'm sure you had plenty of other things to keep you busy, like that new monster catching app that came out a few weeks ago. Don't think that I haven't seen your plush collection."

Rena frowned. "Since I'm stuck in this stupid wheelchair, I can't get out to play it. Not like anyone cares anyway. It went from being a cultural phenomenon when K.S. Reynard started writing this chapter to something no one even talks about now."

Fox nodded knowingly and replied, "Yeah. Good thing I sold my stock in that company after all the horrible news stories started coming out."

"Stocks, bonds, money, yada yada yada. How boring. Let's give Zippy a field test, shall we?"

Controlled from halfway around the world, the pink and yellow drone's rotors powered on. Zippy lifted off the bathroom sink and hovered in midair. Over the sound of the surprisingly quiet rotors, Rena asked, "Okay, so what's the plan here?"

"We need to cut through the wall in the handicapped stall," Fox replied, crossing his arms.

"Huh. Good thing I equipped Zippy with his own personal pizza cutter. This should be quick and easy." Without waiting for Fox or Pond, Rena guided Zippy into the handicapped stall and then hovered towards the off-white drywall next to the toilet, which—mercifully—looked like it had been cleaned recently. In fact, the entire bathroom looked and smelled as clean as it had the day it was constructed. Fox had a hunch that with the party, that would not be the case for long.

"Activating pizza wheel," said Rena.

Fox and Pond shuffled into the handicapped stall and crossed their arms. Both of them half expected Zippy's pizza wheel to break or end up jammed in the wall, but when the wheel began spinning, them held their collective breath and watched Rena work. Zippy's pizza cutter sliced through the drywall with minimal effort. In just over a minute, Rena completed a rectangular cut in the wall and backed Zippy away from it just as the cutout fell backwards and bounced off the toilet.

"That was easy," Rena commented. "Now to cut out the wall on the other side."

Zippy hovered into the newly created hole in the wall and began cutting out the second layer of drywall that, when penetrated, would open up a small passageway into the storage closet on the other side of the bathroom. However, just as Zippy's pizza wheel powered up again, the most agonizing sound of all reached Fox's ears.

The frantic pounding of someone trying to enter the locked bathroom.

Fox stared at Pond and nudged his head towards the door, but Pond refused to budge. Instead of moving, he held out his hand and made the three signals for "rock, paper, scissors."

"Oh fine," Fox whispered, trying to voice his frustration with as little volume as possible. "Rock, paper, scissors, shoot!"

Fox flung his arm forward with his fingers in the shape of two scissor blades. To Fox's immeasurable disappointment, Pond had a feeling he would pick scissors and instead chose to clench his fist in the shape of a rock. "You loshe," Pond chortled.

Fox grumbled under his breath and walked towards the locked door, which the frantic partygoer continued to pound on. Through the door, the patron yelped, "What's going on in there? Open up! I've gotta go!"

"Sorry pal," Fox replied, "I'm a bit tied up in here right now. It's…um…really bad."

"There's more than one stall in there! Why did you lock the door?"

Attempting to feign embarrassment, Fox sheepishly replied, "There was a bit of an explosion in here. It went everywhere—the floor, the mirror, the door handle…it's a horror scene. I've been trying to clean it up for the last ten minutes, but that stuff got everywhere. I knew I shouldn't have had that pasta earlier today."

The patron remained unmoved. "I don't care! Open the door _now!"_

"Can't you use the women's bathroom? I'm sure they'd understand," Fox suggested.

"I already tried, but they're lined up outside the door! You know how they are!"

"Well, damn," Fox mumbled, trying to sound distressed. "I think there's a bathroom in the lobby downstairs. Can't you use that one?"

"I won't make it! I've got to go _now!_ Pleeeease open up!"

Fox looked over his shoulder in time for Zippy to fly through the hole in the wall and face him. "Come on, senpai!" Rena shouted through the drone's speakers.

Returning his attention to the door, Fox let out a panicked gasp that could have won him an acting award and yelped, "Oh crap—I've got a second wave coming. Try to make it to the lobby! Good luck!"

"NOOOO! I can't hold it any longer!" the partygoer screamed.

Fox abandoned the door and darted towards the back of the bathroom, falling in line behind Zippy and Pond as they moved through the new cutout in the wall. As he stepped into the space between the bathroom and the storage closet, Fox reached back and picked up the wall panel that Zippy had cut out. Then, he fit it back into the wall as best he could, even though the cut-out edges were still noticeable.

The duo and Rena's drone found themselves in the storage closet—a tiny, cramped space filled with shelves of paint, cleaning supplies, and several sets of navy blue service worker uniforms. Upon seeing the clothing, Fox had an idea.

"Hold up—let me take care of something here."

While Pond stared at him with a quizzical expression, Fox snatched up a set of clothes along with a pair of boots and pushed through the bathroom wall again. His ears failed to hear anything at the door, which led him to assume that the desperate partygoer had either tried to make it to the restroom on the base level or well…let's not think about that.

Oops. Too late.

Hoping that the partygoer had managed to find another bathroom, Fox draped the uniform's set of pants over the toilet seat and slid the pair of boots under both pant legs to give the appearance of someone sitting on the toilet. He had a feeling the ruse would not hold up for long, but it struck him as appearing less suspicious than if someone with a key unlocked the bathroom door and found no one inside. Either way, he knew that time was of the essence.

After stepping back through the wall and replacing the cut-out panel again, Fox looked at Rena's drone and told her, "We're trying to sabotage the Landmaster that's being kept in the facility's "skunk works." Anything you can do to help us would be appreciated. "

Zippy tilted to the side while hovering in midair. Simultaneously, Rena furrowed her eyebrows and stared Fox down. "Without getting a blueprint of it first? Really? You're just going to destroy it? That's farking stupid, Senpai. What are you thinking?"

His ego bruised by Rena's verbal assault, he demanded, "What's your idea?"

"Find the blueprint, of course. If we can get that, we can send the plans to every military in the developed world. It'll end East Fortuna's monopoly on the Landmaster schematics. Once you do that, you can destroy it—but if you swipe the blueprints and make so that everyone else can have Landmasters too, you might as well just leave the base immediately after that."

Fox shrugged. "That sounds like a good plan, but where are we going to find those blueprints?"

"Probably one of the company servers," Rena answered. "They're bound to have a few in this building. Getting into them might be a bit tricky, though."

"Huh. You think?" Fox replied with a facetious voice.

"There might be a way in. We'll get there when we get there. If we can't get in, we might be able to mess up their internal systems for the heck of it."

"Because that isn't going to make anyone suspicious _at all."_

"Shut up, Senpai. Yeesh—you're really snappy today, you know that?"

"Says the vixen who's always snappy," Fox retorted. "Come on—let's find that server room. I'll locate it on my blueprint of the base."

"Shay, where'd you get that from?" ashked Pond, plasching hish handsh on hish hipsh.

Fox looked up from his smartwatch screen and gave both Zippy and Pond a sheepish expression. "Krystal." When Rena—via her video screen built into Zippy's front panel—returned a bewildered expression, Fox explained, "You haven't met her yet."

Fox reached for the storage closet doorknob, but he halted when he realized that keeping Zippy out of sight of any guards or security cameras was a fool's errand. Looking at Rena through Zippy's screen, he grabbed the sides of the drone and said, "Sorry, but I've got to put you back in the bag for a little while. Nothing personal."

"Oh, it's personal," Rena replied in a tone of voice that seemed both playful and upset at the same time.

Shaking his head, Fox felt for Zippy's power button and deactivated the drone, then shoved it into his bag, which he slung over his shoulder. He locked eyes with Pond, then pried open the closet door and stepped out.

The duo found themselves in a minimally-lit, narrow office hallway that sported searing red paint on both the walls and the ceiling. Apparently, the Red Group wanted to embrace their name even if their offices looked strange on account of it. Fox and Pond looked down both ends of the hallway; and after seeing no one, they pulled their fake name tags out of their pockets and fastened them to their jackets.

Glancing at his wrist, Fox turned to the left and began walking towards the distant server room indicated on his wrist-mounted display. As he and Pond ambled through the narrow hallway, Fox glanced at the numerous security cameras mounted to the walls while keeping his head down as to avoid unnecessarily exposing the entirety of his face. He had a feeling that he needed to move quickly in order to make a clean break from the facility.

He hoped that the black bag on his back would not draw undue attention to himself, but he knew of no other way to smuggle Zippy deeper into the facility. After all, the security cameras would have gone berserk had they spotted a pink and yellow drone flying through one of the hallways.

Considering that the sun had set hours ago, the hallways remained empty. Every so often, Fox would pass an office with its lights on, but for the most part, the facility seemed vacant. He glanced at his smartwatch again and noted his location—within two hundred feet of the server room.

As if to confirm the information, the red hallway ended with an open door that led into a much more open, light-gray area with significantly wider hallways, exposed pipes, and the general feel of an industrial operation. On the other side of the door, Fox spotted a short set of stairs on the left side of the hallway.

"It's up there," he told Pond. "We need to find a way to take out anyone who's in there without letting them see who we are."

The amphibian stopped walking and turned towards Fox. "Why don't we jusht kill them? They'll never know if we do that."

"Not a good idea," replied Fox, shaking his head. "The last thing we need here are dead bodies. Just knock them unconscious—no fatalities."

"That'sh shtupid," Pond grumbled.

"Well, whatever you think about it, it's what we're doing. Follow me."

He moved towards the stairs and climbed them, being careful not to let his dress shoes clap against the steps any more than necessary. Then, at the top, he crept towards the gray, metal server room door and reached for the silver handle. Pond fell in behind him. Then, Fox inched the door open and peered inside.

The interior of the server room was—as he expected—filled with computer equipment that stretched from the floor to the ceiling. The two server banks were arranged in a way that created three distinct aisles, and Fox figured that the noise created by them would be enough to mask a set of quiet footsteps if necessary. He saw no one inside the room, but he suspected the presence of an employee somewhere in the nearby vicinity.

Pushing the door open, he crept into the server room and motioned for Pond to follow him.

Three rows of dim fluorescent lights stretched across the ceiling, their faint strobe effect giving Fox a mild headache within minutes. He crept across the floor, his ears perked up and ready to alert him to any abnormal noise in the area.

Then, he heard it—the unmistakable sound of clothing rustling. The sound came from behind the server wall to his left. A near-silent pair of footsteps tapped upon the tile floor, approaching the main server room door, and in turn, him and Pond.

Fox wasted no time. Motioning for Pond to follow him, he darted into the center aisle. He slid his feet whenever possible to avoid 'clopping' the floor and in turn alerting the server attendee, but in the back of his mind, he cursed himself for not wearing shoes with softer, quieter soles. Upon reaching the end of the aisle, Fox poked his head out and looked both left and right.

Nobody in sight.

Looking over his shoulder to be certain that the employee on the next aisle had not crept up on him, he stepped out of the center aisle and turned into the aisle against the left wall. As he did, he saw the tip of a raccoon's tail before it disappeared around the corner, close to the door where he and Pond had entered the room.

Fox exchanged glances with Pond. Then, he crept down the aisle, letting the whirring of the servers mask his footsteps. Reaching the end of the aisle, he hazarded a quick glance at the area near the entry door. Nothing.

A faint, determined grin crossed Fox's lips. He had his quarry right where he wanted him.

He turned to his left and slipped into the center aisle where he had just been a mere thirty seconds earlier. A raccoon worker wearing a tailored set of office clothes mindlessly paced down the aisle, glancing at various components on the server walls every few seconds. The gap between him and Fox amounted to only twenty feet, and every second brought Fox closer.

Then, suddenly, the raccoon twitched and looked over his shoulder. At that exact moment, Fox lunged at him, throwing his arms forward. Before the worker could make a sound, Fox clamped a hand over his mouth, then moved in behind him and placed him in a headlock. For reasons unknown to anyone but himself, he tightened his grip on the raccoon's neck three consecutive times; and after the third pump, the worker blacked out without ever having seen his aggressor.

Fox took the unconscious raccoon's body and placed him in a seated position against one of the server banks. He admired his work for a moment before Pond interrupted his brief moment of self-reflection with a question. "Why did pumping his neck three timesh take him out?"

Fox crossed his arms. "I saw it on a video game I was playing a few months ago, and I thought I'd try it out. It really is amazing how much effort the developers of the Metal Cog series put into those games to make them as realistic as possible."

"Uh huh…" Pond mumbled, not believing what he saw in the least. Nevertheless, the server room attendant seemed out for the count; and in the end, results—not the techniques used to achieve them—mattered.

While Pond attempted to piece together Fox's video game logic, the vulpine pulled his bag off his back and unzipped it. He pulled out Zippy, then powered up the drone once again. As Rena's screen flickered into life, he stated, "All right, Rena—we're in the server room. Do what you can."

"Sure thing, Senpai; but without any administrative passwords, there's not much I can do," Rena replied before an idea presented itself to her. "Do you think maybe this 'Krystal' person who gave you the Red Group building's blueprints might be able to help?"

"That's a thought," said Fox, raising a finger to his chin. "Let me see if she knows anything about this."

* * *

 _AUTHOR'S NOTE(S):  
_

 _This was originally supposed to be part of a longer chapter, but I figured that you'd probably prefer to read a 6,000-word one instead of slogging through 10,000-plus words.  
_


	32. Code Red

**Arc VI: Party Crashing**

 _Part 6: Code Red_

While Zippy hovered nearby, Fox pulled his phone out of his dress pants' back pocket and searched through his contacts until he found the recently-created one titled "Krystal."

He prepared to press the 'call' button, but in the forefront of his mind, he wondered if the vixen had already gone to bed and would therefore be unable to answer his call. Such an eventuality would prove frustrating or even disastrous depending on the outcome, but Fox saw no other option but to call and hope for the best.

Fox pressed the call button and brought the phone to ear level. The phone repeated a dial tone three times. Then, the sound ended, replaced by a faint static-esque noise in the background, followed by a tired, relaxed voice that belonged to Krystal.

" _Hello? Who's this?"_

"It's Fox," Fox replied. "There's something I might need your help with. I hope I didn't catch you at a bad time."

Krystal sighed. _"You're quite the one for timing, aren't you? I was right in the middle of my bath when you called."_

The tips of Fox's ears flashed red. "Oh—I'm sorry. I hope I didn't screw anything up."

" _It's okay,"_ Krystal assured him. _"I always keep my phone within reach. You didn't interrupt anything. So, what do you need my help with?"_

"Um, this might sound a bit strange, but just go with me on it," Fox requested, prefacing his request.

" _Okay? Go on."_

Looking around the server room for any signs of an intruder, Fox explained, "I'm in the Red Group's server room with my team's tech expert."

Pond took offense to this and interrupted. "Hey, I'm alsho an ekshpert at computersh!"

Hovering between Fox and Pond, Rena spoke through Zippy's speakers and retorted, "Yeah, right. I bet I could root your computer in minutes, and you wouldn't be able to do a thing about it."

"I bet you couldn't. My firewall ish firsht rate."

"That sounds like a challenge to me. I accept."

Giving both Pond and Zippy the evil eye, Fox cupped his hands over his phone and snarled, "Shut up! Rena—no hacking Slippy's computer! I'll fire you if you do it!"

"Fark you," Rena mumbled, lowering her muzzle towards her keyboard.

Having dressed down his teammates in a matter of seconds, Fox shook his head and resumed his conversation with Krystal. "Sorry about that. Anyway, we're trying to find the documents for the Landmaster, but these data banks are going to be highly encrypted. Basically, what I was hoping for was…"

Krystal interrupted with a dulcet voice that stopped Fox in his tracks. _"…For me to give you the administrative passwords for the project? You drive a hard bargain, Fox. Normally, someone like me wouldn't be expected to know anything like that. However…"_

Fox's ears spiked. "R…Really? You actually know them?"

" _As a matter of fact, I do,"_ Krystal answered, drawing swirls and hearts in her bathwater with her finger, even though Fox had no way of seeing her do that. _"You see, Miss Ortega is quite the forgetful type, and she has many,_ many _passwords. Someone had to keep track of them."_

"…Or she could have used a computer program," Fox cut in.

" _Yes, I'm sure she could have, but for whatever reason, she chose to trust me with some of them. What a shame for her. It's too bad she didn't also give me her bank password, because I would be more than happy to divert some funds your way."_ She smirked, then let out a quiet sigh. _"It's probably a good thing you called now, because Rafa and Miss Ortega are going to have those passwords changed as soon as possible. They just found out about me deserting them, you see."_

Fox once again scanned the room with his peripheral vision, then replied, "You don't sound all that concerned about it."

" _I told you I could take care of myself. Besides, I never bathe without a gun less than three feet away from me."_ Her eyes peered over the edge of the tub, where a matte gray revolver sat next to her towel.

"Well, good for you," said Fox. "Can you tell me the password?"

Krystal paused for a moment and then replied, "Miss Ortega's Red Group information account is under the username 'Cortega,' and her password is…let me see…1Z3C9N7V."

Upon hearing the password, Fox raised an eyebrow. "What kind of password is _that?"_

With a scoff, Krystal answered, _"You know how all the systems these days force you to make elaborate passwords that you can't possibly remember? You know, things like, 'Your password must contain a number, a special character, a capital letter, a hieroglyph of your mother's maiden name…you know, things like that?' Well, Miss Ortega got fed up with that system and found a way to make easy to remember passwords. It's just a pattern. Follow the numbers and you'll see it. Oh, and don't forget to use all capital letters. Good luck, Fox."_

"Thanks, Krystal. I owe you one. I guess I'll, uh…let you get back to your bath now."

" _Please,"_ Krystal replied before hanging up on Fox.

Sliding his phone back into his pocket, Fox gave both Pond and Zippy a triumphant look and said, "I got the password and username for Miss Ortega's Red Group account. We can use it to get in and find the information on the Landmaster."

Through Zippy's viewscreen, Rena looked less than thrilled. "That was _way_ too convenient. Hold on now—how the fark did this 'Krystal' person have access to Miss Ortega's personal information? No one is stupid enough to hand out huge information like that to one of their lackeys! If Krystal could be trusted enough to hold onto stuff like this account information, there's no way she'd be so willing to leak it to you."

Fox shrugged, although part of him agreed with Rena. "Well, things can change, you know. Rafa's been acting more unpredictable lately. Maybe Krystal feels like it's in her best interest to ditch him and Miss Ortega and help us instead. I'm not going to complain about it. That, and I really do think she wants to help us. She's putting herself in a lot of danger by doing it."

"Hmph," Rena grumbled, her voice taking on a slightly digital property through Zippy's tiny speakers. "I think she's just trying to use you. What does she look like, anyway?"

"She's a vixen who looks like she just turned twenty, and she has naturally blue fur."

Rena cocked her head to the side. "So…she's kind of like Lucas, then?"

"Kind of, I guess," Fox answered. "She's an interesting one."

"I take it that's code for, 'My red vixen isn't good enough for me, so now I need a blue one too,'" Rena sneered.

Fox pointed at Zippy's comms screen with a smirk on his face and retorted, "The joke's on you for being the first one to think of that. Good job."

Rena became strangely silent; and said silence persisted for five complete seconds before she shook her head and muttered, "Let's find a server that I can plug into."

While Zippy turned and hovered towards the nearest server bank, Fox suppressed a quiet chuckle and glanced at Pond, a goofy expression on his lips.

Trying to put her poorly placed comment aside, Rena guided Zippy to a suitable port on the long server wall. Then, the drone stopped and hovered in place. A small panel on its underside opened, revealing a tiny USB drive, which Zippy snatched with one of its tiny manipulator arms and inserted into the server bank.

Fox crossed his arms and watched the drone work. Fortunately for him, Rena tended to talk her way through her computer sessions, which provided Fox with an easy way to keep track of her progress.

" _Okay…login prompt. What's the username and password, Senpai?"_

"Username is 'Cortega', password is…dammit! I already forgot!" Fox replied, mentally punching himself to not jotting down Miss Ortega's password the instant he heard it.

" _Are you farking kidding me?"_ Rena shouted. _"Call your blue friend and ask her again."_

Fox bit his lip and shuffled his feet. "She's taking a bath right now. I don't want to interrupt her."

" _Oh, give me a break! Do you remember_ any _of the password?"_

Scratching his muzzle, Fox replied, "Um, I think the first part of it was 1Z3C…something."

" _1Z3C…"_ Rena repeated. _"Oh, I think I see how this works. It's a pattern. It follows a diagonal path from the top left number on the keyboard to the bottom left letter, and then it skips the even numbers. Using that, the whole password seems like it would be '1Z3C5B7M,' but when I think about it, I'm not so sure. If Miss Ortega is the kind who likes symmetry, not using the 7 or 9 on the top would irritate her. Using the exact same pattern for the entire password is also less secure. What if…"_

"What, Rena?"

" _What if it was the same pattern on the right side of the keyboard, except reversed, like maybe '1Z3C9N7V?'"_

A light bulb suddenly flickered on in Fox's mind. "That's what the password was. Thanks for jogging my memory."

" _Glad you suddenly remembered that, because there were hundreds of combinations that she could have used,"_ Rena stated.Password in mind, Rena entered the information into the console. Seconds later, she spoke again. "I'm in. I see the Landmaster documents, but there's more than just those in here."

Fox's eyes widened in response to Rena's revelation. "More documents? What are they for?"

" _There's a set of files for a fighter called an 'Arwing,' and there's also plans for a giant mech…that looks kind of like something from one of my anime shows."_

"A giant mech?" Fox wondered aloud. "Krystal told me about the Arwing, but she didn't say anything about a mech."

" _Well, this is Miss Ortega's account, not Krystal's."_ Rena suggested. _"I wouldn't expect your new crush to know_ everything _about what Miss Ortega is up to."_

Crossing his arms, Fox stopped her and grumbled, "Krystal isn't my 'new crush.' Why do you keep suggesting that?"

" _Are you stupid, Senpai? I could tell from the tone of your voice when you were talking to her that you want to hook up with her and…fark—why did I think of that?"_

Fox shook his head and replied, "I was just trying to be friendly to her. She's been doing the same to me ever since last night."

" _Ever since last night? Oh, I see how it is. You've already done it with her. Fark me. On second thought, no—don't fark me. That would be disgusting. It would also be rape."_

Despite his best efforts, Fox failed to suppress a laugh. "No, Rena, I haven't 'done it' with her. I still don't trust her, you know. Anyway, can you just shut up and extract the files? We need to get out of here before this guy wakes up." He motioned to the unconscious raccoon propped up against the server wall.

" _Fine,"_ Rena grumbled.

For the first time in 48 lines of dialogue, Pond spoke up. "Shpeaking of 'that guy,' he'sh moving."

Fox spun on his heels in time to see the raccoon beginning to stir. The office worker groaned and rubbed his forehead, but did not open his eyes.

"Do something!" Fox ordered Pond.

Pond reacted immediately, reaching into his pants pocket and pulling out what appeared to be a black click pen with gold trim. Nonchalantly, he pointed the tip at the raccoon and pressed the clicker at the back of the pen. A quick 'whoosh' of air reminiscent of a quiet bang filled the air. A tiny projectile sped out of the pen and embedded itself in the raccoon's neck. Within seconds, he stopped moving and flopped back against the server wall.

With his work done, Pond slipped his special pen back into his pocket and looked at Fox with his arms crossed and his face locked in a satisfied expression. "Problem sholved."

"He's not breathing," Fox observed, worry tingeing his voice.

"Good. That meansh the poishon ish working," Pond replied.

Fox let out an audible gasp. "Slippy! You killed him! I said 'no fatalities!'"

"Whoopsh," said Pond in a voice that made it obvious that he could not have cared less about Fox's demand that no Red Group employees be killed during the infiltration.

Fox looked around the room as if someone would barge through the main server room door and blow his team's cover at that very second. "We need to get out of here as quickly as possible." He glanced at his smartwatch and consulted his facility map, then added, "The fastest way out is to keep going down the hall we were just in and follow it all the way down to the skunk works area where the Landmaster is being kept. That should…dammit!"

"What'sh the problem?" asked Pond.

"That's a high security clearance area! We won't be able to get through there! Unless…"

Via Zippy's speakers, Rena inquired, "What's your idea, Senpai?"

Fox crossed his arms and took a deep breath. "Do you think you could find a way to shut down the security cameras in the main factory hallway?"

"Lucky for you, I spent the last week looking for weaknesses in the Red Group's security system. I found an opening that I might be able to exploit," Rena answered.

"Good. Go ahead and shut those cameras off, then. My map says there's a large door leading into the skunk works, and it's supposed to be manned by at least one person. My guess is that they might have the clearance we need to get in. So, my plan is to lure the guards away from their post after the security feed has been cut, and then take them out and use their security clearance to get into the skunk works."

Rena's response sounded less than confident. "Sounds like it might possibly work, but what happens when we make it through the door?"

"I don't know yet."

" _I don't like the sound of that,"_ Rena groaned. A moment later, she cringed and clutched at her abdomen. _"Dammit—my stomach is killing me."_

Fox looked at Zippy with concern. "Are you going to be okay? Did you take any of that pink stuff?"

" _Yeah,"_ Rena replied. _"It still hurts like fark."_

"Sorry to hear it. Let's get moving. Shut down the security cameras first, though."

" _You got it, Senpai."_

After a minute of silence while Rena worked to deactivate the security cameras at the end of the main factory hallway, Fox, Pond, and Zippy turned to leave the server room. Upon reaching the exit door, Fox turned around and looked at the now-dead raccoon worker who lay sprawled against the side of the left server wall. _"I am going to choke Slippy half to death when this is over,"_ he thought.

After once again stowing Zippy into his backpack, Fox led Pond out of the server room and back into the main industrial hallway. He followed his wrist-based map towards his eventual destination, all the while not knowing what he planned to do when he reached it. Truth be told, he hated the position he found himself in. With no plan and no clear way to escape the facility if all went wrong, he felt trapped and accordingly nervous.

The hallway felt so interminable that it seemed to have been over a mile in length. Of course, it was not nearly that long, but the silence and gloom that pervaded the air inside the Red Group facility had the effect of slowing time to a crawl for Fox. Then, four hundred feet ahead of him, he laid eyes on a wide, tall panel that looked more like a hangar entry than a standard door. Like the rest of the walls, it sported off white paint. Two guards stood on each side of the door, both holding assault weapons. Two small security cameras—the ones deactivated by Rena—protruded from the wall above the massive door.

Fox swallowed when he took a closer look at the guards. Having only a small 9mm handgun on his person, he dreaded what needed to be done next—eliminate them. He knew that the guards saw him and Pond at this point, and drawing his weapon and attacking would be nothing short of a death wish.

Then, he spotted a hallway off to the left, roughly a hundred and fifty feet ahead of him and Pond. Near the corner, a series of large pipes ran from the floor to the ceiling. Judging from their appearances, Fox reckoned that their job was to transport various fluids—probably refrigerant, gas, and water—through the complex.

He had an idea, but he felt far from confident about it. Still though, he could not think of another way to lure the guards away from his pond. As subliminally as possible and without words, he motioned for Pond to follow him into the hallway. The amphibian complied.

Out of the two guards' line of sight, Fox crossed his arms and faced the trio of pipes attached to the twenty-foot-tall wall in front of him. The largest—a thick, white PVC pipe—looked related to the building's plumbing, while the smaller gray one directly to its right looked like a covered conduit for an electrical line. The third line—the one to the left—was a copper pipe. When Fox approached it and held his hand near it, he felt a wave of cold air wash over his digits.

"Freon," he thought.

Giving Pond a nervous yet determined glance, Fox took off the backpack containing Zippy and placed it on the ground. However, unlike before, he left Rena's drone inside the bag and instead unzipped a secondary compartment. He dug his hand into the additional storage slot until his fingers closed on a metal implement, which he pulled out and revealed as a pair of bolt cutters.

"Here goes nothing," he whispered to Pond while the dapper frog stared at the Freon pipe in front of him.

Fox crept up to the wall and wedged the copper pipe between his bolt cutters' two blades. Then, he took a quick breath and pulled the two handles together. The pipe snapped in two with a loud 'clang' sound, followed by a rapid gushing of misty air that smelled decidedly unhealthy.

He took a step back. Then, he whispered to Pond, "All right—act panicked, like we need help right now."

Pond nodded. "Whoa! It'sh everywhere! Shomeone, help!" he shouted, windmilling his arms as if it would somehow lure the two guards away from their posts—never mind the fact that they could not see either him or Fox.

Trying to sound as legitimate as possible, Fox added onto his amphibious counterpart's plea for help. "This AC pipe just blew up! It's spraying stuff everywhere! Get over here and help!"

The sound of rapidly approaching footsteps passed as a response.

"Here they come," said Fox, "The instant they round the corner…" he smacked his fist against the palm of his other hand. Pond replied with a thumbs up.

The footsteps came closer.

Fox darted towards the corner where the main hallway intersected the auxiliary one and pressed himself against the wall. Pond followed his movements to the inch and put his back against the wall next to Fox. In seconds, the guards' footsteps created more noise than the severed Freon pipe did. Then, they rounded the corner.

The instant the two feline guards entered his vision, Fox pushed off the wall and sprinted towards them. Only seven feet separated him from the soldiers to begin with, so it took no time for him to ready his next movement. Trusting that Pond would take care of the other guard, Fox swung at the first soldier with a wild punch that caught him square in the nose. Stunned, the orange cat dropped his assault rifle on the floor. Fox was not finished there, though. With the soldier stunned and coming to grips with a newly broken muzzle, Fox grabbed him by the shoulders and slammed his face into the wall near the corner.

The guard blacked out and crumpled to the ground, blood dripping from his nose.

Fox breathed a tense sigh of relief, then looked to his right to see Pond brush off his green hands and walk towards him. Like the first guard, the second soldier lay on the floor, unconscious.

"Check him for anything that might get us through that door at the end of the hallway," Fox ordered.

While Pond set to work going through the second guard's pockets, Fox searched the first soldier for anything resembling an ID card. After seconds of digging, his fingers closed on a metallic card, which he pulled out and held up to the dim light inside the Red Group's industrial area. "Slippy, I think I found something here."

"I told you, it'sh Pond, not Shlippy!"

Fox bared his teeth and snapped back, "Shut up! You are who I say you are!"

"You don't have to be a dick about it," Pond grumbled, looking towards the floor.

"Sorry about that. I'm just really tired of dealing with your stupid alter egos, that's all. Come on—let's see if this card opens the door."

With that, Fox reached down and picked up one of the dead soldiers' assault rifles. It perturbed him that the need for him to use it could arise, but regardless, he felt safer for what could lie ahead than if he had done nothing. In contrast to him, Pond ignored the other trooper's weapon, choosing to stick with his hidden handgun instead.

" _This whole 'secret agent' thing has gone too far,"_ thought Fox as he walked towards the oversized door at the end of the hallway.

Upon reaching said door, Fox paused and pulled out his keycard, then slid it into the card reader to the left of the large entrance. For three tense seconds, the reader glowed red as it scanned the card. Then, the red light turned to green, and a solid 'ka-chunk' sound emanated from the reader. At the same time, the massive door split in half and slid open, revealing a darkened hallway that looked nothing like the industrial area.

The hallway through the door was coated in silver metal, while steel mesh passed as the floor. Every one of Fox and Pond's footsteps created a hollow 'clang' as they walked towards what they both felt was their inevitable destination. After two hundred feet, Fox noticed a metal railing up ahead. Holding out his hand towards Pond with his palm facing him, he crept towards the railing and peeked over it.

The floor below stretched for nearly one two hundred feet in length and one hundred in width. For the most part, the space seemed wasted. Only one vehicle occupied the chamber, which Fox suspected was an oversized garage area.

A behemoth cargo truck sat in the center of the garage floor, pointed towards one of the two roll-up doors on the right wall. Five figures stood in front of the truck—four armed soldiers, and one hulking polar bear wearing a set of power armor that looked suspiciously similar to the set in the blueprint that Rena stole from Andross's Fichina base.

" _Dammit—Rena was right! Desmond's video in Fichina_ was _fake after all!_

From above the main floor, Fox listened as the ursine conversed with the four guards in his typical rumbling, bassy voice.

"Good thing you finally finished the Landmaster. It was taking so long that Rafa was about to threaten to cancel the project. So, don't take its completion as much of a compliment."

One of the four soldiers gave Desmond an exasperated look and replied, "Hey, it's not our fault that it took so long. All we do is run security around here."

"Shut your mouth. No one wants to hear you talk," Desmond growled. Then, in the blink of an eye, he reached for his waist, whipped a pistol out of a holster, and blasted a hole through the protesting soldier's forehead for little reason other than to affirm his evilness to the readership of this story. As the guard fell to the ground, Desmond spat, "This isn't fun and games here. Our biggest financier just pulled the plug on the entire Landmaster and Arwing projects. We've got to move this truck and get its cargo delivered to East Fortuna ASAP. I have a feeling that…"

He turned his head towards the balcony overlooking the garage floor, only to see Fox and Pond watching him and the Red Group guards. "Intruders! Kill them!"

Fox's eyes went wide, but he expected something like this to happen. As the guards scrambled to ready their weapons, Fox lined up the sights on his stolen assault rifle and flicked the selector switch to burst fire. Bullets leapt from the rifle's muzzle, dropping one of the three remaining guards in seconds. Between, bursts, Fox inched his weapon to the right and eliminated the soldier standing next to the now-dead guard before he could put Fox in his sights.

The instant Fox fired off his first rounds, an earsplitting klaxon alarm erupted through the building's intercom system. He hoped that the garage was located on the edge of the building, because otherwise, the level of danger threatened to become too much for him and Pond to manage.

Next to Fox, Pond drew his 9mm handgun and fired on the last soldier. To his dismay, his secret agent powers failed to transfer to his gun, and every round missed. However, one did happen to bounce off the floor near the truck and penetrate the muffler. If you were expecting that to have some kind of significance later on in this chapter, it doesn't. There's just a hole in the muffler now.

Meanwhile, Desmond raced towards the truck and vaulted into the front seat after flinging the door open. The one remaining guard returned fire on Fox, who dove for the ground the instant he saw the soldier aiming at him.

Pond shaw a window of opportunity and onshce again fired hish pishtol. Thish time, a shingle round caught the sholdier in the shoulder. He let out an earshplitting yell, only to be drowned out by the shound of Deshmond shtarting the cargo truck and shlamming the gash pedal to the floor. Tiresh shrieking in protesht, the truck shped towardsh the closhed roll-up door at the end of the garage. Deshmond made no attempt at shlowing down.

On the balcony, Fox pushed himself off the ground and stood up just as the cargo truck smashed through the garage door, ripping it clean off its tracks and dragging the majority of it into the parking lot outside in chunks. Fox's attention, however, centered on the last guard. Despite his injury, the soldier stuck to his duty and sprayed a hail of bullets in Fox's direction. None of them hit home, in contrast to Fox's, which struck his body with surgical precision and ended his life within seconds. The guard dropped to the floor, joining the three others nearby.

Despite having wasted the majority of his shots, Pond blew on the tip of his handgun and commented, "I thought you shaid 'no fatalitiesh.'"

"The plans changed," Fox gasped, the reality of his racing heart occurring to him in the aftermath of the shootout. "Come on—we've got to chase down that truck! The Landmaster is in the back!"

The two sped down the steps leading to the garage floor, then sprinted through the smashed garage door and into the large parking lot outside. Five cars and one moped sat in various parking spaces in the vast asphalt expense. Fox wondered if they belonged to the guards that he and Pond had just gunned down.

"Hey," Fox asked, "Where's your Austin-Marcus? You're supposed to have one of those, right?"

Pond crossed his arms and nodded. He looked over the cars and the moped until his eyes alighted on the nearest vehicle—a tiny, gray subcompact that looked exactly like what it was. Namely, a rebadged economy car outfitted with luxury trim for the sole purpose of satisfying overbearing bureaucratic fuel economy regulations for the Austin-Marcus brand. Of course, the car's styling itself did nothing to hide the truth of its purpose, or of the puny four-cylinder engine "lurking" under the hood.

"There it ish," Pond stated, pointing to the compact.

Fox stared at the car incredulously. "The Cygnus? Really?"

"Yesh. Let'sh move."

Before Fox could protest (or drop on the ground laughing at the 'spy car'), Pond darted towards the vehicle and smashed the side window with his elbow. The car's alarm tripped the instant the glass shattered, but Pond paid it no mind. Unlocking the door from the inside, he dropped into the front seat and disappeared from view for a few seconds until suddenly, the car's engine and headlights turned on.

"Come on, Foksh!"

Fox ran towards the car and opened the passenger door. Pond stomped on the throttle the instant Fox dropped into the passenger seat and closed the right side door with the car's inertia alone. The Cygnus flew through the opened parking lot gate and launched onto the narrow city street on the other side. Well, 'launched' was a bit of an exaggeration. The car was going nowhere fast, no matter how much Pond wanted to believe that it was a muscular, exotic sports car.

As Pond turned onto the bustling avenue that ran in front of the Red Group's main entrance, Fox peered around and through the innumerable cars on the road ahead and saw Desmond's cargo truck a quarter of a mile ahead.

" _As long as we keep him in our sights, we're good,"_ he thought. _"With this traffic being so heavy and our car being so small, we'll catch up eventually."_

Realizing that he had the time to take care of matters other than pursuing the Landmaster, Fox unzipped his backpack and pulled Zippy out. He pressed the power button, and the drone rebooted within seconds. Once again, the drone's front-mounted screen showed Rena sitting at her desk and peering through her webcam.

Except this time, Fox saw a familiar jackal on the bed behind her.

"Welcome back, Senpai," Rena grumbled, "Took long enough, did you?"

"Yeah, sorry," Fox insincerely replied before he posed the question on his mind. "Who's that guy on your bed?"

The instant Fox asked the question, the jackal's eyes went wide. He threw himself off the bed, landing on the floor with a thump so loud that Fox heard it through Zippy's speakers. At the same time, Rena looked over her shoulder and blushed in such a way that the yellow fur on her face threatened to turn pink. "Oh, uh…that's my life-sized Lucaura plush. You've seen him…I mean…'it' before."

"Uh huh," Fox muttered, clearly not convinced. "Rena, you know you're not allowed to bring guests into the base without me giving you permission first."

"But I'm lonely here with everyone gone!" Rena protested, attempting to portray both grief and cuteness at the same time. "He's not going to hurt anything."

"Other than my back," Lucas groaned.

Despite his frustration at Rena bringing in an unwanted guest, Fox's expression softened. "Rena, I'm glad you finally found someone to love. But…try not to make too much of a mess in there, if you know what I mean."

Rena paused. Fox watched as her expression changed from confusion, to consternation, and finally to disgust. "EWW!"

"I see you're still not there yet," Fox commented with a grin. "Anyway, I need you to do something with Zippy. The truck carrying the Landmaster made a break for it, and we need to make sure we don't lose it. Can you follow it?"

Uncertainty tinged Rena's voice. "I don't know, Senpai. My stomach…it's killing me. I might need to log out for a little while."

"Can you hold on for just a few more minutes, Rena? Please?"

Rena sighed. "I'll try. Let go of Zippy, and I'll see what I can do."

Obeying Rena, Fox released Zippy and rolled down the right side window. The instant the glass disappeared from view, the drone hovered out of the car and sped down the road, flying over the slow-moving traffic with aplomb.

Meanwhile, Pond guided the Cygnus through the congested traffic with focused determination. Although Desmond's truck loomed far ahead, every quick pass, every efficient lane change, and every cleared yellow light brought Pond and Fox closer to their target.

During the slowest car chase ever conceived, time seemed to come to a standstill. After three minutes of driving, Fox realized that he and Pond had only traveled one mile in the Cygnus due to the traffic, the lights, and the punishingly low speed limit. All the while, however, Desmond's truck continued to grow larger in their sights. Only three hundred meters separated the two vehicles at this point.

Spotting a gap in traffic, Pond floored the gas and puttered through a yellow light that turned red the instant he crossed the line marking the intersection. The move brought him even closer to the truck—close enough to see Zippy hovering around it and ascertaining that the vehicle had no chance at escaping.

The truck sat at a red light in the left turn lane, waiting for a green arrow or any realistic chance to turn into an alleyway to the left. Pond continued closing on the vehicle, using the Cygnus's microscopic wheelbase to cut through traffic gaps that would have wrecked larger automobiles. Then, he dove in front of a compact hatchback and stopped mere feet behind the truck's rear bumper.

An angry horn blast from behind stung his ears for a moment, but the prize that lay ahead drowned it out in mere seconds. Even though he could not see Desmond inside the truck, he knew that panic had overtaken the ursine. The light hanging over the intersection continued displaying a green light for both directions of head-on traffic, but no arrows. Fox contemplated jumping out of the car and assaulting Desmond while he had the chance, but he hated the idea of doing such a thing in front of so many civilians. No—he knew he needed to wait for a better chance.

The turn light turned green and displayed an arrow. Confirming his panic, Desmond accelerated off the line so rapidly that he chirped his rear tires and pulled through the turn with his truck threatening to tip over. Pond followed behind him, a grim smile on his face. The two vehicles sped down a narrow, dark alleyway that boasted far less activity than the main thoroughfare that they had been on seconds before.

A quarter mile down the road, Desmond slammed on the brakes and turned towards another narrow alley to the right, only to come to a complete stop. A garbage truck blocked the adjacent road while waiting to back into a loading bay. With the truck unable or unwilling to move, Desmond lacked the room to slip past. Looking in his rearview mirror, he accelerated once again and looked for another road to turn into.

To his dismay, it seemed that every adjacent road was either a dead end or under construction. His panic increased the farther he drove. As if to match his fearful thoughts, the alleyway seemed to become darker, more turgid, and even more lifeless the farther he went. Then, with all options exhausted, the road ended in a cement wall covered in graffiti. Not a single soul stirred nearby. Even the noise from the overwhelming Eladardian traffic seemed muted.

Then, Desmond stopped the truck, turned off the engine, and leaped out. The ursine barreled across the pavement towards a large, abandoned building on the left side of the street before he disappeared inside.

Crossing his arms, Fox drew a deep breath and looked at the building. Above the weathered, moss-covered entrance, a sign read 'Sakamura Steel Company.' It resembled a factory of some sort, and Fox considered that it seemed like an ideal place to hide from the authorities or one's enemies.

"What should we do?" asked Pond.

Fox looked at the building entrance once again, then replied, "That truck isn't going anywhere, but Desmond definitely is. This might be our one chance at taking him out. I say we go in after him."

"But what if shomeone shteals the truck?"

"Zippy can protect it, and…wait a minute—I had an idea."

While Zippy looked at him with suspicion, Fox pulled out his phone and searched through his favorite contacts list until he found Scarlet's icon, which he pressed. Three tense seconds passed before the vixen's voice came through his speakers.

"Hello? What the hell did you do in there?"

"It's not important, Scarlet," Fox replied. "I need your help. Where are you now?"

Tension in her voice, Scarlet explained, "I'm in the back of the car that Felix let us use. The instant that alarm went off, we had to get out. I didn't even have time to put my clothes back on!"

Fox blushed. "Uh…where are Miyu and Cassie? Are they in the car too?"

"Yeah. We're heading back to Felix's place. We figured that was the best thing to do."

"Turn around."

"What? Why?"

"Desmond—you know, the dead bear in the Fichina base—took the truck with the Landmaster in it and made a break for it. We cornered him on a dead end road two miles from the Red Group building, and then he ran off. I need you to take the truck somewhere safe while 'James Pond' and I go after Desmond. The truck is off with the keys in the ignition…I think."

Scarlet paused for five seconds before replying. "I think Felix has a storage area close to here. If we can get the truck there, it should be okay."

"I'm going to leave that up to you," Fox stated. "Just get in the truck and get it away from Desmond. We can't let that tank make it to East Fortuna."

"You got it, Fox. I'll tell Miyu to turn around. Speaking of her, what do you want her and Cassie to do?"

Fox bit his lip and stared at the entrance to the steel mill while he thought. "You know, just have Miyu stand by in case you need help. I'll ping your phone with my location when I hang up. I'm probably going to go dark for a little while. Try not to panic."

"Why is that?" Scarlet demanded.

"I don't think Desmond is going down without a fight."

"Well, then, good luck," Scarlet whispered.

"Thanks."

Fox closed the call, then sent his GPS coordinates to Scarlet in a matter of seconds. Collecting himself, he looked at Pond, then opened his car door and stepped out with his assault rifle in hand. The duo crept towards the abandoned steel mill's entrance as if it was the lair of an ancient dragon. Looking to his right, Fox glanced at Zippy, hovering around the truck, and motioned for Rena to follow him and Pond into the building.

Fox expected the mill to be as dark as the grave, but to his surprise, a faint, dark red light bathed the area with a rusty glow that illuminated the long-dormant rollers, smelting mechanisms, and machinery that lay scattered about the abandoned structure.

The light told him something else, though.

Desmond had fled the truck for the sole purpose of luring him into the mill.


	33. Boss Battle 3

**Arc VI: Party Crashing**

BOSS BATTLE 3

Music: Traffic (Richard Durand Remix) – Tiësto

* * *

As he walked through the abandoned steel mill, Fox felt a growing feeling of unease in the pit of his stomach. The grim red ambience served as the building's only lighting; and the mere fact that it was on suggested that someone had powered it up. That someone, Fox figured, was Desmond himself.

Finger resting on his assault rifle's trigger, he crept across the floor. To his left stood a long row of smelting pots mounted on a long track. The machines lay silent, not having been used in years. To his right was the structure's exterior wall, and above him, a series of steel catwalks that crisscrossed the entirety of the factory floor. Scores of barrels, crates, and dilapidated pieces of equipment lay scattered across the concrete. The way he saw it, they almost looked to have been laid out as cover for a firefight.

Both he and Pond glanced from side to side in the massive atrium, looking for any signs of movement. Meanwhile, Zippy hovered above them, its rotors creating a faint, droning hum.

Fox looked over his shoulder at the entrance, now seemingly far behind him. The farther he walked, the more he wished he had simply hijacked the Red Group truck and left Desmond to his own devices. But there was no turning back now. Up ahead, he saw an array of heavy duty pipes leading from the floor to the ceiling. The second level catwalks ran in front of the wall of pipes, and in the center of it, Fox saw something.

"Cover!" Rena shrieked through Zippy's speakers.

Fox and Pond leaped into action, diving for the nearest available cover. For Fox, this meant crouching behind a rusty forklift, and for Pond, one of the concrete catwalk supports.

No sooner had Rena spoken than a stream of .50 caliber bullets ripped the concrete floor into chunks directly underneath where Fox and Pond had been standing. The bullets stopped a second later.

Then, a deep, bassy voice echoed through the warehouse. "You couldn't leave well enough alone, could you? You chose to go after me instead of taking the truck when I left it unattended with the keys in the ignition? Really? I must say, I'm flattered that I'm that important to you."

Fox poked his head up, but only far enough to allow himself to look at Desmond, who stood in the center of a section of the catwalk that ran perpendicular to the long, rectangular shape of the atrium. The massive ursine wore a suit of heavy power armor and carried a minigun, which seemed strange, considering that it would have been impossible to hide on his person earlier. "The gig is up, Desmond. We know what you're doing. Without you, Rafa loses the brains of his operation."

"Oh, if it were that simple," Desmond chuckled, although it sounded more like a rumble. Grabbing his minigun with one arm, he curled it with the ease of a bodybuilder moving a twenty pound dumbbell. "You see, all the heavy lifting has already been done. Thanks to me and my colleague, Dr. Andross Bowman, the experiments that our glorious leader desired have all been completed. Now, all that remains is to put them into effect; and the event of my death will do nothing to stop that." He paused, then laughed, "I applaud your selfless work in the Fichina base. It did so much to advance our cause! All of the data stored by Andross belongs to me and Rafa now, and you got none of it! Of course, before you destroyed all of that data, I copied every last file!"

"I should have known you staged your death," Fox growled, still crouching behind the forklift. "Is that what Rafa calls himself now? 'Glorious Leader?' Sounds to me like a third world dictator trying to pad his easily bruised ego."

Desmond chortled, "I can assure you that he is far above that level. Soon enough, the whole world will witness our glorious revolution against the stagnant empire that writes your pathetic checks." With a sign, he added, "It's a pity that you won't be there to see it."

"Oh, we'll see about that," Fox snapped.

Having had enough of Desmond's pompous declarations, Fox took aim at the polar bear through the frame of the forklift functioning as his cover. With his gun still in burst fire mode, he unloaded two quick volleys into Desmond's chest. To his dismay, the attack seemed to do nothing except provoke his adversary to laughter.

"Ha! You're going to have to try a lot harder than that! Now, try this one on for size!"

Desmond pointed his minigun at Fox's forklift and opened fire, unleashing a dizzying number of rounds on the rusting piece of equipment.

Fox felt panic creeping up on him. The firestorm of .50 caliber bullets began ripping the forklift's frame to pieces, with some rounds landing dangerously close to him. He contemplated leaping from his cover and finding another spot to hide from Desmond's hot lead, but the nearest spot of cover—another concrete column holding up the catwalk—was over thirty feet away. Sprinting out from behind the forklift would result in an easy kill for Desmond, and Fox knew it.

Then, the sound of another gun rang out in the steel mill. Desmond's shots halted for a moment before the bear focused his attention on the other side of the room, where Pond crouched behind his support column.

Fox seized his opportunity and darted for the column closest to him. Putting his back against the concrete pillar, he took a deep breath and contemplated his next move. His first thought was to fire on Desmond from his new spot, but he wondered if sneaking closer to him would be more effective. All the while, Desmond continued pounding Pond's general area with bullets.

Then, Fox had an idea. He reached for his phone and placed a rapid call to his teammate in Corneria. "Rena," he barked, not waiting for her to speak up upon answering. "Does Zippy have any weapons?"

" _Uh, he has that pizza wheel I used earlier. That's about it, unless you can find a handgun for him to use."_

"I've got one on me. Send Zippy over to me, and I'll hand over the gun."

Rena paused for a brief moment, but then her voice changed, filled with evident pain and agony. _"Oh fark…I can't…my stomach. I'm going to have to put Zippy in Automatic Mode. Sorry, Senpai! I knew I put too much curry on my octopus last night!"_

"Wait! Rena, no!"

It was no use. The call ended, and when Fox looked to his left, he saw Zippy wandering towards him with both manipulator arms outstretched. Taking the cue, he shoved his handgun into the drone's "hands," leaving him with only his assault rifle. He cringed when he realized that he only had once spare magazine. He knew that he would need to make every single round count, assuming that he could even take aim at Desmond again without being reduced to shreds of meat.

"Zippy! Attack!" Fox ordered.

In response, the drone dipped the front of its Frisbee-like frame and turned around. Then, it sped towards Pond. As it flew across the width of the steel mill, it stowed Fox's handgun and opened another one of its compartments. This one in particular contained a lighter.

"No, Zippy! Attack _the bear!"_

While Desmond pumped another round of oversized lead into the back of Pond's pillar, Zippy hovered up to the amphibian, dropped to the level of his nonexistent neck, and touched the tip of its lighter to his tie. The piece of cloth burst into flame instantly. Pond screamed in terror, flailing his arms about and hitting Zippy in the process. The drone appeared to take offense to this and made a beeline for his head with its lighter extended.

"AAAAH! My tie! My shecret agent powersh!" Pond shrieked. He broke away from his cover and ran screaming around the back of the atrium with the drone in hot pursuit, all the while swatting at his burning tie with his hands.

At that moment, Fox feared for his teammate's life more than ever before. He knew that in a fraction of a second, Desmond would rip him to pieces with his minigun, all because of Rena's stomach problem and her drone's moronic automatic mode.

" _Dammit!"_

He saw no option but to lean out from his pillar and take a quick shot at Desmond, who had yet to move from his central position on the catwalk near the back of the atrium. His bullets missed, but they pulled Desmond's attention off of Pond and placed it squarely on him.

Fox braced himself for what was to come next.

As he expected, Desmond focused the full brunt of his firepower on the pillar against his back. This time, Fox knew that he had to move, or else the bullets would rip through the concrete and kill him. He held his breath, then darted out from his cover, moving closer to smelting pots on the left side of the atrium. Desmond's bullets licked at his heels as he ran, but he managed to find a heavy-duty crate to crouch behind.

As the bullets pelted the crate, he looked across the room at Zippy in time to see Pond rip off his smoldering tie and throw it to the ground. Having eliminated its fabric target, the drone hovered back towards Fox, ignoring the stream of bullets attempting to rip Fox's cover to pieces.

Zippy approached Fox's side, and despite his respect for Rena's creations, Fox wanted to snap the drone in half. "Zippy! Attack that guy!" he shouted, pointing in Desmond's general direction.

In the most grating, singsong voice anyone could have possibly conceived, Zippy replied, _"Command not recognized. Please select from the following commands:_ _Aerial Dash, Aerial Pizza Wheel Attack, Aerial Spin, Aerial Smash, Arterial Excavation with Pizza Wheel, Ascend to 10ft., Ascend to 15ft., Ascend to 20ft., Attack All Enemy Targets, Attack Self, Attack Nearest Enemy Target, Attack…"_

"Attack nearest enemy target! Go!" Fox screamed.

Zippy wobbled in midair for a moment, but then froze in place. _"Command not recognized. Syntax incorrect. Please select from one of the following commands: Aerial Dash, Aerial Pizza Wheel Attack, Aerial Spin, Aerial Smash, Arterial Excavation with Pizza Wheel, Ascend to 10ft., Ascend to 15ft., Ascend to 20ft., Attack All Enemy Targets, Attack Self, Attack Nearest Enemy Target, Attack User, Backflip, Backflip Double, Backflip Triple, Backrub, Backrub With Pizza Wheel, Banzai Strike of the Forbidden Phoenix, Blackout, Brownout, Brown Note Generator…"_

Fox felt like he could explode. Raising his voice to a comical pitch in an attempt to mimic Zippy's synthesized voice, he shouted, "Banzai Strike of the Forbidden Phoenix! _Whatever that is."_

" _Executing Banzai Strike of the Forbidden Phoenix,"_ Zippy complied.

The drone turned around and gained altitude until it reached the ceiling. Then, while Desmond emptied another round of shells into Fox's cover, Zippy dove towards the ursine, gaining speed until it soared through the air at over twenty miles an hour. At the same time, the drone brandished its pizza wheel and aimed for Desmond's exposed face.

For the shortest of moments, Fox wondered if Zippy would end the fight then and there.

As the drone sped towards him, Desmond whipped his minigun towards his tiny attacker and fired a single shot. The large bullet rocketed straight through Zippy, burning a blackened hole in the center of its shell. Spitting out black smoke, Zippy plummeted towards the ground before clattering to the floor with a shower of sparks.

Suddenly, Fox realized something. _"Shit! We had all the Landmaster and Arwing files in there!"_

Hoping that Zippy's destruction would provide him with a brief window with which to attack, he poked his rifle over the top of his crate and fired a trio of rounds at Desmond. All three caught him in the chest.

Desmond roared. For the first time since the fight started, he leaped over the catwalk railing in front of him and activated a jetpack strapped to his back. At that moment, Fox had a flashback to his brief stint in Andross's Fichina base.

" _Look, Fox! It's an assembly manual for a freaking jetpack! You know you want it!"_

Now, weeks after finding Andross's blueprints and then destroying them, Fox cursed himself for not taking them all for himself, especially since now, copies of them belonged exclusively to East Fortuna.

As Desmond lifted into the air, Pond regrouped and fired four rounds at him before his gun clicked empty. The ursine hovered towards him, then pointed his minigun at the closest catwalk support pillar and opened fire. As opposed to the quick bursts which he had used earlier, he held the trigger down until the gun's barrel blazed orange. Hundreds of rounds erupted from his gun's six barrels and shredded the support pillar to pieces.

Pond realized what Desmond intended to do, but by then, he had no time to react. With a spray of concrete dust, the catwalk collapsed on top of him, burying him in a pile of rubble.

"No! Slippy!" Fox gasped, turning his attention to Desmond, still hovering in mid-air. "You bastard!"

Desmond burst into evil laughter. "Ha! You're next!" He rotated towards Fox and aimed his minigun at another support pillar that Fox realized was precariously close to him. With a smirk, Desmond pulled the trigger.

Only for his gun barrel to spin harmlessly without firing a single shot.

Fox seized his opportunity and emptied the remainder of his magazine into Desmond's armor. The ursine cursed between wounded growls, then hovered away from Fox in the direction of his starting position on the center of the catwalk. As he beat a quick retreat, Fox unclipped his spent mag and swapped it out for his only remaining loaded one.

Before Desmond could land on the catwalk and turn around, Fox fired a burst of shots at his back, one of which penetrated his jetpack and caused it to ignite disproportionately. Desmond lost control of his flight and wobbled to the left before the damaged apparatus flipped him upside down and rocketed him towards the floor. He hit the ground with a resounding thud. Then, all was silent.

Fox poked out from his cover in time to see Desmond grunt and push himself off the floor. He threw his empty minigun to the ground, then limped under the catwalk and hid behind a support pillar near the back of the atrium. This time, Fox decided to go on the attack. He stepped out from behind his cover crate and crept towards Desmond. He laid down suppressing shots every few seconds to keep his enemy from moving, all the while keeping in mind his ammo count. 21 bullets.

Switching his rifle to automatic mode, he continued advancing on Desmond's position. He stepped to within a hundred feet of his enemy, prepared to empty a barrage of hot lead into any limb that Desmond dared to poke out.

Seventy feet.

Suddenly, Desmond leaned out from behind his pillar and fired a wild shot in Fox's general direction. Fox had no time to analyze the weapon used to make the shot, but he realized it in seconds as a scream of pain rifled down his right arm. A shotgun pistol. Enraged, Fox fired back and caught Desmond's arm before he could duck back into cover. The bear howled in rage and shouted obscenities.

The quick turn of events eviscerated Fox's confidence. Whereas before, he felt certain in his defeat of Desmond, but after being shot in his dominant arm, worry worked its way into the forefront of his mind. Making matters worse, he realized that in his rage over being shot, he had expended five rounds on Desmond and was now down to 16 bullets in his only remaining magazine. Every bullet had hit its mark, but Fox still felt like he had wasted his shots.

At the same time, Fox wondered how much damage Desmond's power armor was capable of taking. Having hit his oversized foe with more than fifteen bullets to seemingly little effect, Fox feared that he would run out of ammunition before he could kill or incapacitate Desmond. Slippy lay crushed under the rubble on the other side of the atrium; and even if he still lived, he would be unable to do anything to help end the fight.

Fox took another series of steps towards Desmond's cover.

Fifty feet.

As he drew closer to his quarry, he realized that the closer he got to Desmond, the more likely the ursine would be able to fire off a clean, accurate shotgun spread. Whereas Fox's assault rifle seemed to lack the ability to kill Desmond apart from a headshot, one solid hit from Desmond's shotgun pistol would be enough to end the fight and ensure Fox's death.

Fox cursed his formal clothes which offered him zero protection from enemy fire as he took another tepid step towards his enemy. Once again, Desmond poked his gun out from behind the pillar, but Fox fired three quick shots in his direction to pin him down, all while wondering what he would do when he moved to within twenty feet.

" _If I keep advancing, the only way I'm going to get out of this alive is if I can get a headshot. My aim is good enough, but if I'm not lightning fast with the shot, Desmond can take me out before I can even line up my sights. I've got to do something different."_

Looking to his right, he saw a pile of metal crates twenty feet away from him, and thirty feet from Desmond. An idea formed in his mind. It struck him as a risky idea, but one that could give him an advantage. At this point, going up against a heavily armored foe while wearing a suit and tie, he figured that any idea would be risky. Heck, he should have been dead by this point anyway.

He kept his rifle trained in the direction of the pillar being used as Desmond's cover and darted to the right. In one synchronized motion, he slid behind the metal crates, crouched, and lined up his sights on Desmond, who now stood exposed on the backside of the concrete support column. Fox's finger forced back the trigger, firing a quick barrage of bullets into the bear's shoulder.

He realized that he had no clue how many bullets remained in his magazine, but he knew enough to realize that the number was low. As his bullets hit home, Fox expected Desmond to turn and try to use another side of the pillar to protect him from his bullets, but to his shock, Desmond abandoned his cover, jogged towards him, and took dead aim with his pistol.

Fox ducked behind the crates in time to avoid being embedded with two servings of 20 gauge lead. Then, he peeked over the top of his new cover and opened fire on the advancing Desmond. He watched as his bullets hit his enemy in the chest and swore that he saw a faint spray of blood.

But then, his gun clicked empty. His only other weapon lay with Zippy's smoldering remains on the floor near the atrium's back wall, and somehow, after being shot over thirty times, Desmond refused to die. Upon hearing the repeated clicking of Fox's empty rifle as he hopelessly attempted to will another bullet into existence, Desmond walked around the metal crates and strode towards Fox with his arms crossed and a smug grin on his face.

Fox stared at the bloodied, wounded, and yet undaunted scientist with fear in his eyes. He knew what this meant. This was the end. Everything he had worked to put together, erased in the blink of an eye by his former friend and comrade's main henchman. Making the realization of his impending demise even more painful was the knowledge that he could have avoided fighting Desmond entirely and taken the Landmaster instead. Sure, Desmond would have likely showed his face again at some point in the future, but by then, Fox and his team would have been better prepared to face him.

His ears rang with the aftermath of the innumerable shots fired inside the cave-like factory to the point that the air inside the building sounded like screeching white noise. Over the sound, Desmond chuckled, "How ironic—Rafa thought you'd last until the end and that he would have to be the one to take you down, but it appears that he was wrong. I'm sure he won't be bothered by that fact."

Fox gritted his teeth in rage, but refrained from making any verbal response. He knew better than that. After all, any snarky remarks or angry insults directed at Desmond or Rafa would do more to stoke their egos than knock them down from their lofty perches.

Desmond continued unabated whilst aiming his shotgun pistol at Fox's head. "I have to give you credit, Fox McCloud. After all, most people wouldn't be foolish enough to rush into a staged fight with an armored soldier with a minigun while wearing a business suit. I'll admit you actually gave me a challenge. I'm impressed. Sadly though, the spoils must go to the victor."

He cocked his handgun.

Fox winced and closed his eyes. But at the same time, he heard something breaking through the static in his ears. It sounded like…an engine?

Opening his eyes, he watched as a dull yellow forklift sped out of the rubble on the other side of the atrium. Slippy sat in the driver's seat, his blazer discarded and his white dress shirt stained and shredded. Flames of metaphorical anger blazed from his eyes as he sped towards Fox and Desmond. As he neared them, Fox noticed the pistol in his right hand.

"Fork you!" Slippy shouted, although it sounded more like a shriek.

The momentary diversion caused Desmond to look away from Fox and towards Slippy and his forklift. Fox saw an opportunity. The instant the ursine directed his attention away from him, Fox leaped to his feet and lashed out with a side kick that would have made Rena proud. The kick failed to so much as move Desmond, but it did knock the pistol out of his hand.

Slippy drew closer, barreling towards Desmond as quickly as the forklift would allow him to. He pulled his handgun's trigger multiple times, scoring more direct hits on Desmond through the forklift's front frame rails. At that moment, Desmond realized that he needed to move.

But it was too late. Slippy's forklift plowed into him and knocked him off his feet. He slid across the ground, trapped between the two front forks until the forklift slammed into the metal crates in front of it. The tips of the forks slid under the boxes, but the profound weight of the materials inside made it impossible for the forklift to move them. With the box unable to move and the forklift still sliding under it, Slippy wedged Desmond between his machine and the box and drove forward until the motor balked and stalled out, but not before a series of sickening crunches emanated from Desmond's bones and armor.

His situation suddenly reversed, Fox crossed his arms and walked towards Desmond. As he drew closer, he noticed the discarded shotgun pistol and picked it up. He fingered the revolver mechanism and admired the weapon before he pointed it in Desmond's general direction.

"Looks like Rafa's going to have to deal with me after all."

"You…you got lucky!" Desmond snarled, the pain in his body evident in his deep voice.

Jumping out of the forklift, Slippy walked up to Desmond and replied, "Better lucky than good."

Fox approached his incapacitated enemy's side and said, "Well, Desmond, since it doesn't look like you're going to be going anywhere soon, we have a few questions to ask you."

Desmond bared his teeth and hissed back, "You're not getting anything out of me."

Fox looked at Slippy. "Okay then. Slippy—turn the forklift back on and push forward a bit more."

"You got it, Fox." He vaulted back into the driver's seat and powered up the engine. Then, he reversed one foot before he accelerated forwards once again. Desmond grunted in pain as more cracking sounds filled the steel mill. After crushing Desmond again, Slippy turned off the forklift.

Still aiming at Desmond, Fox remarked, "We're going to keep doing this until one of two things happens: one—you die, or two—you start giving us some answers. Your choice."

An explosive, enraged sigh escaped Desmond's mouth. "Fine. What do you want to know, scumbag?"

"I want to know about Andross," Fox replied. "It's obvious that he's working with you and Rafa. You even said so yourself. So, tell me—where is he, and what is he working on?"

Desmond paused for a moment as silence filled the steel mill. "Andross? Ha! You want to know the truth? The old man is dead. He's been dead for fifteen years, just like the official reports say. If you're looking for him, you're not going to find anything except possibly a pile of monkey bones in the Venom Desert.

Fox's eyes went wide. "Wait, _what?_ How is that possible? We had evidence that he was alive and behind the EMP used in the attack on Northpoint. The COMMERCE bloc is trying to force Macbeth to release him as part of their military negotiations. He can't just be dead. If that's true, then who started the rumor that he's still alive?"

"Rafa did. It was all part of the plan."

Anger in his eyes and voice, Fox spat, "But what was the point of that? Why would he waste time trying to fool everyone into thinking that a rogue Cornerian scientist was still alive when official records stated that he was exiled to death in Venom?"

Desmond answered, "Because it worked. The lie did exactly what it was supposed to. Namely, distracting the world and taking the focus off of East Fortuna when we needed a diversion. The Northpoint EMP was my work. Of course, it was taken from Andross' files in Fichina, so I can't take all the credit for…gaah!"

Fox's boot slamming into his face interrupted his self-congratulatory rant. "Next question," Fox barked. "What the hell did Rafa do to himself? My teammate Rena told me that she shot him five times and beat the living crap out of him, but it didn't even slow him down."

"Oh, you mean the yellow anime freak that I pasted with my squad car in Titan…oof!"

Fox kicked Desmond's muzzle once again, this time harder than before. "I asked for answers, not for you to make snarky comments about my teammate! What did Rafa do to himself?"

"Okay, then," Desmond muttered, his voice low and gravelly. "You want the truth? You can't handle the truth!"

"Answer, dammit!"

Desmond answered, but this time, his voice began to falter as if his breath had failed him. "It's part of a…genetic warfare project. Rafa was given a blood transfusion that functions as a…healing…factor… It makes him…almost…invincible."

Ears erect and eyes wide, Fox demanded, "Details, now!"

Desmond shook his head slowly. "No…you may have gotten me…to tell you… that Andross really is…dead…but you'll…never…g-get…t-that…from…m-me…"

Realizing that the ursine was nearing death, Fox yelled to Slippy, "Back up the forklift! We need to keep him alive somehow!"

Slippy nodded and moved towards the forklift, but before he could reach the vehicle, Desmond sputtered out, "How…did…I…get…here?"

Then, nothing more.

Clenching his fists, Fox shouted, "Dammit! No! Why do they always die before they can spill the important plot details?"

"Because it would ruin the surprise when we _do_ inevitably find them," Slippy replied.

Noticing that Slippy's normal voice had returned, Fox asked, "Wait, what happened to James Pond?"

"I told you—it was my tie."

"Okay, hold on…" Fox replied, narrowing his eyes. "You're telling me that your _tie_ made you speak in that stupid accent and gave you secret agent powers?"

"That's about right."

Staring at Slippy and wondering if he had been smoking something 'herbal', Fox muttered, "That is absolutely…" He felt like finishing with 'retarded,' but decided against it and instead grumbled, "Well, alright, whatever. Fine. Now that Desmond is dead, we need to get back on track. I'm guessing Scarlet's picked up the truck by now, so we need to catch up with her. Give me a second."

He reached into his pocket and pulled out his smartphone. As he did, the shotgun pellets in his arm made themselves known again as his adrenaline began wearing off. With a grunt of pain, he unlocked his phone, called Scarlet, and put the phone up to his ear.

The call created five dial tones. Then, when no one answered, it went to Scarlet's voicemail.

" _Hello, you've reached the voicemail of Scarlet Altruis,"_ said the recording of Scarlet's voice, which positively dripped with seductive verbiage. _"If this is about a contract, please hang up and call my business number. It's on my website—MissScarletAltruis-dot-cor—along with a few other 'promotional materials,' if you know what I mean. Otherwise, please leave a message at the sound of the moan, and I'll get back to you at my earliest pleasure."_

" _Ohhh…."_

Fox ended the call and shoved his phone back into his pocket. "This isn't good."

"Well, she's driving, right?" Slippy suggested. "She might have missed the call because of that."

"Maybe, but it's not like she _really_ needs to focus. We took care of the hard part of this. All she has to do is take a leisurely drive to Felix's storage yard, or wherever she's going. Besides, she knew we were about to fight Desmond. She would _not_ miss that call without a good reason."

"What kind of good reason were you thinking of?"

"That's what I need to know. Let me call Miyu and see if she knows what's up."

Regretting putting his phone back in his pocket, he dug it out again with his left hand to avoid aggravating his bullet wounds. Once he managed to pry it out, he called Miyu and waited three agonizing seconds until his teammate's voice came through the phone's speakers.

" _Hello? Fox?"_

"Hey, Miyu," Fox replied, "I need an update on Scarlet. She's not answering her phone. You're still following her, right?"

A drawn-out, silent cringe managed to make its way from Miyu to Fox's phone. _"Yeeah…about that. You see, we were following her, but then a cop pulled us over for following too closely. He was going to write me a ticket, but Cassie flashed him, so he let us off with just a warning."_

Fox teetered on the brink of losing both his temper and sanity at the same time. "Are you serious? Following too closely? We're in a fucking metropolis! What do they expect?"

" _Hey! Don't take it out on me!"_ Miyu protested. _"We tried to catch up with Scarlet, but these streets are designed like a maze! From what I read in a tourist's booklet I found in Felix's guest house, the city planner laid out the streets in the shape of his secret fraternity's logo for shits and giggles."_

"I don't care about that right now, Miyu," Fox growled. "We need to make sure that tank ends up with us, and that means making contact with Scarlet. Just try to find out where she went, okay? Bye."

Miyu continued protesting, but Fox cut her off by ending the call and dialing yet another contact. This time, the few short seconds of waiting to be connected made him want to smash his phone to pieces on the concrete floor, kind of like what happened to K.S. Reynard's two previous phones before he discovered the Otterbox, which provided a convenient outlet for him to hurl his phone with impunity whenever rage consumed him.

Finally, the contact answered. _"Hello. Who's this?"_

"Felix, it's Fox. Listen—I need to know the address for your storage yard. It's important."

Felix hesitated before replying, _"Um…76036 West Southeastern Port Avenue B, Lot F. Do you want me to text that to you?"_

"Please," Fox muttered, rolling his eyes at the absurd address.

" _Okay. Now, if you don't mind telling me, why do you need that address? Actually, I demand to know. That's really strange of you to call me and outright ask for that."_

Fox explained, "Scarlet has the Landmaster and is trying to take it to that address, but she's not answering her phone. We've lost touch with her. I need that address so I can go there and make sure everything works out."

A tinge of worry colored Felix's voice. _"Oh…I see. In that case, I'll have the security guard on duty call you when she arrives."_

" _If_ she arrives," Fox muttered under his breath.

" _Don't be such a pessimist, Mr. McCloud. It's not good for your health. Statistics show that those who practice habitual optimism have been shown to increase their lifespan by…"_

Fox closed the call and shoved his phone back into his pocket, once again provoking the pellets in his arm. "That's enough of that. Damn, that's painful."

"Are you going to be okay, Fox? You've got blood on your sleeve," Slippy asked.

Fox attempted to wave off Slippy's concern for his health, but he waved with his injured arm and immediately regretted it. "Oh man, that hurts. I think I'll live, though. Come on—back to the car. We're not done yet."

While Fox turned to walk towards the steel mill's exit, Slippy stayed in place and looked around the floor for something that seemed just out of eyesight. When Fox realized that he was not being followed, he spun on his heels and snapped, "Slippy, what are you doing?"

"I'm looking for loot!" the amphibian declared. "Desmond was a boss, so it means there must be a weapon drop or an XP bonus around here somewhere!"

Fox sneered and pointed towards Desmond's discarded Gatling gun. "If you want a weapon drop, you can try picking up that minigun over there. Or, you could pick up Zippy's smoldering remains instead. I really hope the data Rena got out of the Red Group server is still intact."

"Yeah…that's not good," Slippy deadpanned as he walked over to the silent drone and picked it up. "The bullet only went through the center of it, so it's only about 35% destroyed. I guess that's a good thing?"

"Your guess is as good as mine. Well, actually, it's probably better than mine because you're better with tech than… You know what? Forget it. We need to get going."

"Right with you, Fox," Slippy exhaled. "I'll drive."

* * *

 _AUTHOR'S NOTE(S):_

 _So hammy, I know. Truth be told, I enjoyed writing this boss battle a lot more than the two that came before it. I apologize for the long wait in getting this chapter out, but writing these things isn't a fast process for me at all. As much as I'd like to get to work on the next chapter, I'm probably going to focus on finishing my_ Escape From Zombee Island _twoshot first._


	34. Situational Awareness

**Arc VI: Party Crashing**

 _Part 7: Situational Awareness  
_

"That must be it right there," Miyu announced from the driver's seat of Felix's car.

At the end of the narrow alleyway sat the oversized truck used to haul the Landmaster. The mere sight of it sitting by itself without a soul around gave Miyu, Scarlet, and Cassie a collective feeling of unease. As they approached the vehicle, Miyu slowed down until she came to a stop thirty feet behind its rear bumper.

Crossing her arms in front of her chest while sitting in the shotgun seat, Cassie commented, "Something feels wrong about this. What happened to Fox and Slippy?"

In the back of the car, Scarlet narrowed her eyes and pointed towards the abandoned steel mill to the left of the truck. "They're in there."

At that moment, gunshots erupted from inside the building. The sound of a high-caliber Gatling gun rattled the airwaves before the repeated firing of an assault rifle entered the fray.

Miyu's heartbeat skyrocketed. "Shouldn't we help them? What if they die in there?"

Discomfort in her voice, Scarlet shook her head and replied, "Fox was adamant that I take the truck and have you follow me to Felix's storage yard. I don't know if he's trying to be a martyr or if he really thinks that he can win the fight in there, but that's what he wanted us to do. Besides, none of us are armed."

"I don't know, Scarlet," Miyu murmured, her ears pinned back in fear for her teammates' safety.

"I do," Scarlet declared. With that, she opened her door and climbed out of the car. The warm, tropical air swept through her bare fur, reminding her both of Eladard's equatorial climate and her own lack of clothing. Due to her need to escape from the Red Group building after Fox triggered the alarm, she had been unable to dress herself after performing her seductive dance routine with Cassie, who had been a bit more fortunate. As a result, Scarlet's only clothing amounted to a skimpy, metallic silver bra and thong. Although she would never admit to it, she felt bashful about her lack of clothing. Thankfully, no one would notice it once she climbed into the truck and started driving.

Looking over her shoulder at Miyu and Cassie in the car, Scarlet opened the truck's driver's side door and clambered inside. She situated herself on the flat, squishy bench seat and looked around the cabin for anything of interest. An intuition suggested that she check the glovebox. Upon opening it, a silver handgun dropped out and fell into the passenger side footwell.

She reached for the weapon and placed it on the seat next to her. Then, she clipped on her seatbelt, grabbed the keys—which were already in the ignition—and started the truck. The loud clattering of the diesel engine filled the cabin and rocked the vehicle's chassis.

" _Great. I'm going to have to put up with this racket for the next twenty minutes,"_ thought Scarlet.

She mused on the ridiculousness of her situation and rolled her eyes at the obvious attempt at squeezing even more fanservice out of the story. After all, a lingerie-clad vixen driving a military cargo truck through a downtown metropolis was not something that people saw every day—or ever, for that matter.

Looking in her mirror, Scarlet motioned for Miyu and Cassie to move out of the way. Then, she shifted the truck into reverse and eased the massive vehicle into an adjacent alleyway under construction. Multiple road signs prevented her from moving far into the alley, but she managed to use the limited space to turn around and head back up the road towards the city center. Once there, she knew how to find Felix's storage area. She recalled that the facility stood near the city's oceanside shipping port.

With Miyu following closely—too closely, perhaps—behind her rear bumper, Scarlet came to a stop at an intersection that allowed her to re-enter the city's main avenue and waited until the traffic light displayed a green arrow. Every muscle on edge for fear of making a wrong move and flattening a car, she eased the truck onto the avenue and looked towards the distant bay. Despite the sea of buildings blocking the way, she knew where to go.

She looked in her mirror again to make sure Miyu and Cassie were still following her. They were, but Scarlet still felt that Miyu was sticking too closely to the back of the truck.

" _Damn it—back off, girl. If I have to hit the brakes, you're going to crash into me."_

Scarlet considered calling Miyu and telling her to follow less closely, but she thought that trying to place a phone call while driving through chaotic city traffic in an oversized truck carrying a tank was more of a risk than it was worth. Besides, calling Miyu in the first place would require her to dig her phone out of her bra and take her attention off the road ahead. With a sneer, she kept driving while making sure to brake as gradually as possible to prevent Miyu from rear-ending her.

After waiting for another turn signal, Scarlet turned onto an adjacent avenue that led towards the bay area. Only five miles separated her from her destination, but the congested traffic, the bulky truck, and the sheer number of traffic lights that lined the route conspired to make that distance the longest five miles she had ever driven.

Then, she looked in her mirror, only to see a bar of flashing blue lights behind her. Her pulse spiked, but her heart sank at the exact same time. She fervently hoped that she was not the target of the police, especially now. However, as she saw no way of escaping from the authorities, Scarlet pulled to the right and began slowing down. Miyu followed suit, only for the police car to pull alongside her and order her to stop.

" _Crap. I really should have made that call. Now Miyu isn't going to know where to go after she gets her ticket."_

With Miyu and the police car shrinking in her rear view mirror, Scarlet shook her head and pressed on towards the bay. The city streets began running downhill towards the distant water's edge; and as the distance rolled past, the bustling city traffic thinned, replaced by industrial equipment and commercial vehicles. Thanks to it being close to midnight in Eladard, even the number of those vehicles waned to the point where she felt as if she had the road to herself. However, the narrow, cramped streets prevented her from driving any faster. Not as if she had any need to.

A flash of yellow to the right caught her eye. A split second later, an echoing, pounding sound 'clanged' through the entire truck. Scarlet glared into her right side mirror only to see a canine with dyed-yellow fur clinging to the side of the truck by a pair of magnetic grips. He wore a black hoodie and cargo pants, and his appearance immediately brought Rena to Scarlet's mind.

" _Oh great—I thought one of her was enough."_

To her dismay, when she looked in her other mirror, she saw three more yellow hooligans dart out from an alleyway behind the truck. Under any normal circumstance, the idea of being pursued on foot while in a vehicle would have provoked her to laughter, but in this case, she felt a sensation of dread and apprehension. She accelerated from 25 miles per hour to 30, but struggled to push beyond that due to the truck's tremendous weight and lack of maneuverability. The three pursuers fell back, but showed no signs of giving up. All the while, the one hanger-on continued shimmying his way up the side of the truck until his yellow face and dyed-white hair blocked Scarlet's right mirror.

Scarlet looked to her right and drew her handgun the instant the canine's face appeared in her window. Without hesitation, she pulled the trigger. An ear-splitting gun blast, a rain of broken glass, and a splatter of blood confirmed that the round had claimed its target.

Then, she returned her eyes to the road and gasped in panic. A ninety degree right turn was less than 100 meters away. Beyond the pavement lay a wiry mesh fence and an aluminum traffic barrier. Beyond that, the warm waters of the Western Eladard Bay lapped against the shoreline.

Scarlet slammed on the brakes and cranked the oversized steering wheel hard to the right. She felt the weighty cargo in the back of the truck propelling her towards the bay and threatening to tip the truck over when she pulled into the corner. Squealing brakes and smoking rubber filled the air as she clipped the corner's apex with two of the truck's wheels off the ground.

Time seemed to slow to a crawl. Foot still mashing the brake pedal, Scarlet cleared the corner and jerked the steering wheel to the left to bring all four wheels back to the pavement. The truck's suspension shook violently. The impact dislodged more broken glass from the shattered window and scattered it onto Scarlet and across the dashboard in front of her.

She allowed herself to take a deep breath as her panic wore off. Returning to the speed limit, she continued towards the storage facility, now only a mile away. However, as she passed an alleyway to her right, three more 'clangs' echoed through the right side of the truck.

" _No! They must have found a shortcut around that corner!"_ she screamed internally.

Keeping one eye on the road and another on her right side mirror, she watched the three yellow bandits crawling along the side of the truck with the same variety of magnetic grips as the bandit she had shot. One of the three climbed along the side of the cargo box towards the cabin, while the other two swung their way onto the rear gate. In seconds, Scarlet realized their intentions—to pick the lock on the back and steal the cargo inside.

The instant the realization dawned on her, she frantically scanned the truck's footwells for her gun, which she had dropped while trying to avoid driving through the sharp corner and into the bay.

" _Where is it? No! Dammit!"_

Abandoning her brief search for the handgun, she looked in her right mirror and cringed. One of the bandits had inched her way to within five feet of the passenger's side window; and when Scarlet looked more closely at her, she saw a metallic implement held in her teeth.

" _Is that...a pizza wheel? You've got to be kidding me!"_

Scarlet could almost see Felix's storage yard up ahead, but she knew that the yellow bandits would commandeer the truck and steal the Landmaster before she could reach her destination. Miyu and Cassie had probably just finished receiving a ticket from the Eladard Police Department, and Fox may have been dead, for all she knew.

In other words, she could call for help all she wanted, but no one would help her.

She looked to her left and noticed a large construction site built along the edge of the bay. Multiple cranes, supply barrels, and a cement truck lay about the area, but it seemed devoid of people. Nevertheless, it would have to do.

As the bandit clinging to the right side of the truck reached for the door frame and tried to swing her way into the cabin, Scarlet jerked the wheel to the left and sped through the caution sawhorses blocking the entrance to the construction site. The force of the impact and the g-forces generated by the turn threw the interloper off the side of the truck, but crashing through the blockage also slowed the vehicle down.

Slamming on the brakes and coming to a full stop in the construction site, Scarlet once again visually raked the cabin for her handgun. As before, she saw nothing. Heart pounding and pulse racing, she snarled, turned off the engine, and yanked the keys out of the ignition. She looked for a place to stow them but realized that without pockets, she had only one real option. Regardless, she had to find a way to prevent the keys from falling into the bandits' hands.

" _Wow. Of course it would come to this. Just my luck."_

Scarlet shook her head, then dropped the keys down the front of her thong and climbed out of the truck. She backed up until she stood in front of the truck and looked around the area. Nearby, a pallet of I-beams dangled from the top of a crane parked in the center of the construction site. Thirty feet behind her, near the cement truck, Scarlet noticed a patch of wet cement, roughly twenty feet squared. On the other side of the construction site, a group of concrete cylinders lay stacked above the level of the asphalt under her bare feet.

As she collected herself, the three bandits emerged from behind the truck and slowly advanced on her. She took note of each of them. The first—a lean yet muscular raccoon—exuded an air of authority the other two lacked. This made Scarlet assume that he was the leader of the group. The second bandit possessed the physique and facial features of a koala, but the yellow tribal paint he had covered himself with gave him a bizarre appearance. The third bandit resembled Rena to a disturbing degree, from her white hair to the cutoff hoodie and short shorts that made up her outfit. All three of them covered themselves in yellow fur paint. Under normal circumstances, they would have looked like a group of lost cosplayers, but as they stepped towards Scarlet, they resembled something more sinister.

The leading raccoon put his hands on his hips, and upon noticing Scarlet's outfit, he taunted, "Of all the people to be driving that truck! Did you get lost on the way back from the strip club? You know, if you're looking for a good time, I and some of the boys back at our hideout could probably show you one."

Scarlet's fur bristled. Baring her teeth, she replied, "You'd better watch it, asshat. I know one of your friends, and she wouldn't take nicely to that comment."

"Oh, and which 'friend' would that be?" the raccoon spat.

"Her name's Rena."

The three bandits broke into a round of chuckles. "Funny you should say that," said the koala, "We kicked her out of the gang so long ago that most of us don't know she was ever one of us to start with!"

"Damn right," the raccoon added, "No loyalty, that one. She was good at fighting, but after she killed five of us for hitting on her, boss decided she had to go. If she ever shows her face around here again, well…" He flashed his teeth in a crooked grin. "…Let's just say it won't end well for her."

Scarlet stopped backing up and faced the trio in front of her. "Well, listen here. You are _not_ getting away with that truck or the cargo in the back. I have no idea what you'd do with it anyway."

"If it's valuable, we'll find something to do with it," the raccoon sneered. "I hate the idea of killing a pretty lady like you, but if those keys aren't in my hands in ten seconds, that's what's going to happen… Although we might have a bit of fun with your corpse afterwards."

The anger radiating from Scarlet's persona flared up even more, to the point where her hate bordered on being tangible. "Mark my words—I'm going to make you regret saying that."

The raccoon rolled his eyes. "Easy enough for you to say right now. You won't be so cocky in a few minutes." Looking at his comrades, he shouted, "Come on, you two—let's kill this bitch."

All three bandits drew their weapons—the raccoon, a long, cruel knife; the koala, a set of nunchuks; and the vixen, her pizza wheel. They charged at Scarlet, who turned and heroically ran away from the truck. She knew that she had no hope of outpacing them, but she needed a way to force them apart. Clustered together, they presented too much of a challenge for her, but if she could keep them from attacking her all at once, she figured she would have a chance at dealing with them.

Scarlet looked over her shoulder, then focused on the ground ahead of her. To her right, an abandoned utility pouch left by one of the construction workers sat on a pallet of plywood sheets. Not slowing down in the least, she grabbed it off the pallet and clipped it around her waist. Her hands dug through the various pockets, looking for tools that she could use as weapons.

She neared the back edge of the construction site, marked by a fence situated a matter of feet from the waters of the bay. As she considered where to run next, she heard footsteps closing in on her. In a flurry of panic, she reached into her utility pouch and grabbed the most easily accessible tool. This happened to be a pipe wrench. She turned halfway around and swung it at her pursuer. A solid impact followed by a feminine scream filled the air. The pizza wheel vixen dropped back and clutched at her wounded muzzle, only to trip up the koala behind her. Both bandits fell to the ground in a heap.

Scarlet intended to capitalize on her brief one-on-one with the raccoon. While he pursued her with his knife ready to strike, Scarlet turned left to avoid running into the fence at the back of the construction zone and doubled back towards the entrance. To her right lay numerous pallets of construction supplies, from pipes to electrical wire to bags of concrete. In particular, a red, cylindrical gasoline canister stood out to her. While continuing her sprint, she reached for the can and picked it up. Its considerable weight slowed her down, but knowing that it was full gave her reassurance at the same time.

Holding onto the can with her right hand, she dug through her pouch until her fingers closed on a plastic lighter. Then, she turned around, opened the mouth of the canister, and splashed as much gasoline as possible at her pursuer before she dropped the canister in front of her.

Just as she had hoped, the raccoon tripped over the gas can.

Scarlet gripped her lighter and flicked the metal wheel, prompting a tiny, orange flame to spew from the cartridge. For a moment, she looked back on her past and felt grateful that her former excursion into the world of "herbal supplements" had taught her how to effortlessly use a lighter. Then, she returned to the present and hurled the lighter at the gasoline-soaked raccoon.

He burst into flames and screamed at the top of his lungs. He ran away from Scarlet towards the back of the construction site, where he attempted to vault the fence. However, the barbed wire attached to the top of it prevented any such endeavor. In a blaze of agony, he dropped dead on the ground.

Scarlet had no time to reflect on his death, as the koala raced towards her with nunchucks spinning and flailing in an unblockable flurry of pain. At that moment, a vibrating sensation pulsed through her left breast.

" _Crap, that's probably Miyu or Fox… Mmm…but that actually feels pretty good."_

However, after the phone vibrated more than once, Scarlet's pleasure turned into an annoyance and a distraction. As the koala sprinted across the construction site towards her, she pulled the phone out of her bra and hurled it at the koala like a discus. The device caught the marsupial in the nose with its hard metal edge, then bounced off and hit the ground.

Although it was far from a lethal blow, it broke the koala's concentration and gave Scarlet a window of opportunity. While he grappled with the fact that he had just been attacked with a cell phone, Scarlet punched him in the muzzle hard enough to make him see stars. He tried swinging his nunchucks in retaliation, but in his uncoordinated state, he only managed to whack Scarlet in the chest before she wrenched the weapon out of his hands, punched him again, and proceeded to jump around to his backside and cross the nunchucks around his neck in a chokehold.

The koala gasped and reached for his neck, but Scarlet kicked him in the back and knocked him to the ground. In under a minute, the bandit choked out his last breath and lay still on the asphalt.

After briefly admiring her work, Scarlet looked around and saw the pizza wheel vixen near the construction site entry. She favored her muzzle after being hit by Scarlet's pipe wrench, and her face radiated an aura of fear for her life. While taking a step towards the truck carrying the Landmaster, she whimpered, "Please, don't kill me! I don't want to die!"

To the yellow vixen's horror, Scarlet marched towards her, anger in her eyes. Out of all the emotions in her body, sympathy was not one of them. "You had your chance to run," she growled.

"Please, don't do this!" the yellow vixen pleaded, "I didn't want to say it in front of the others, but Rena is my little sister, and she would be crushed if I died!"

Scarlet continued advancing and crossed her arms. "Sympathy isn't going to work on me. And you know, if I'm honest, I don't like Rena. She always has her stripy socks in a wad over something, she whines up a blue streak if she doesn't get her way in everything, and she practically worships my boyfriend as a god. Plus, that asexual thing she's got going on is weird." She paused and then added, "Also, I've learned from experience that when you have a run-in with part of a gang, you have to kill all of them. Otherwise, word gets back to the bosses; and then they dedicate the rest of their lives to ending yours. So, nothing personal, but you've got to die."

Eyes wide and fur standing on end, the bandit yelped, "No! I won't tell anyone! I'll just say it was an accident!"

"No, you'll spill everything. I know your kind all too well. You should have known what you were getting into before you decided to run with people like _them_." She pointed to the strangled koala and the charred remains of the raccoon to illustrate her point.

The yellow vixen looked at her with a fearful grimace. Then, she kicked up her heels and raced away from her. She thought about running out of the construction site through the main entrance, but then she noticed a square of particularly clean concrete to her left. It appeared to lead towards a complex of mobile offices. She looked over her shoulder, saw Scarlet barreling after her, and decided to chance her luck evading her in the makeshift offices.

However, when her feet reached the edge of the concrete pad, she realized what she had unwittingly run into. Thanks to the lack of light in the area, she failed to realize that the concrete had not yet dried. The instant her feet touched the concrete, her shoes sank into the hardening stone and caused her to fall face first into the soupy material. Her breaths came out in panicked gasps as she pushed herself up and tried to wipe the cement off her face.

Only for Scarlet to leap onto her back and slam her back down into the concrete.

The yellow vixen thrashed about, but Scarlet's weight on her back and the morass around her made her movements a moot point. All the while, Scarlet kept her hand on the back of her head and plunged her muzzle into the wet cement until her body forced her to take a final, fatal breath.

When all became still, Scarlet pushed herself up and flicked as much cement out of her hands as she could. She thought about how ridiculous she must have looked and felt thankful that no one was around to see her. Her breathing returned to normal as she stepped out of the ruined cement and set foot on the asphalt again.

" _Boy, the construction workers are going to have a lot to clean up tomorrow."_

She checked to make sure that the keys to the truck were still in place; and after ascertaining that they were, she walked over to where her discarded phone lay. She reached down to pick it up but cringed when she inadvertently slathered concrete on the screen.

" _I really need to wash this off,"_ she thought.

She looked for a low point in the construction zone fence in hopes of jumping over it and taking a quick dip in the warm waters of the Western Eladard Bay, but the barbed wire attached to the top of the fence gave her second thoughts.

" _Crap. I guess I'll have to walk around the outside of the fence, then."_

Scarlet turned to walk back towards the truck, but froze when she saw someone standing next to it. The person had a woman's figure, and her gray-over-red fur and her bushy tail identified her as an island fox. Her outfit struck Scarlet as strange. For starters, she wore a large black hat with a lace veil that complemented her dress, which looked like it had been pulled out of another era entirely. The garment featured numerous frills and fit just loosely enough to still showcase her figure while still appearing somewhat modest. Most intriguingly for Scarlet, the vixen's dress sported a corset woven into its chest and abdominal area. Black leggings, copious amounts of black eye shadow, elbow-length leather gloves, and stiletto heels completed her outfit.

Everything about her apparel and demeanor screamed "black widow," which caused Scarlet to look at her warily. Something about the vixen reminded Scarlet of someone else she knew, but she could not remember whom in particular.

Scarlet took a step towards her, intending to ask who she was and what she was doing, but the stranger spoke first. Her tone of voice possessed a rich, romantic quality that sounded polished and vaguely aristocratic.

"Madre Maria! I don't know whether to be impressed or horrified."

Scarlet cursed under her breath. "How much of that did you see?"

The stranger sighed, a faint smile on her face. "All of it. Your situational awareness is quite remarkable, I must say. Most people I know wouldn't have stood a chance against those bandits."

"Well, I'm not 'most people,'" Scarlet muttered, moving to within twenty feet of the stranger. "Now, if you don't mind, get out of my way unless you want to end up like those three freaks. I've got important stuff to take care of."

Upon hearing this, the stranger sighed. "Que lástima. You make this so much harder than it needs to be." Then, she reached for a holster on her hip and pulled out a matte gray revolver, which she pointed at Scarlet. "Detena!"

Of course it would come to this, Scarlet figured. The only thing more annoying than the stranger's gratuitous accent and bilingual speech patterns was the fact that she had the power to render all of Fox's plans to steal the Landmaster null and void. Even though she would have preferred to give the vixen the finger, Scarlet put her hands up and stared into the stranger's eyes. "What are you trying to pull here? Who are you?"

"Pardon me for not introducing myself," the stranger replied. "My name is Christina Orteg…ACHOO!"

At the end of her sentence, she unleashed a violent sneeze that had the effect of spraying saliva and olfactory fluids onto her gun. "¡Maldito sea! I hate these allergies!"

Scarlet's eyes widened. "So, _you're_ the one bankrolling Rafa's operation. If you don't mind, why don't you tell me why you decided to help that little turd."

"Mujer insolente," Ortega snapped. "I would shut your mouth before you make me decide not to do you a huge favor."

Scarlet became deathly silent and stared at Christina in wary anticipation.

"Good," said Miss Ortega. "Now, stay right where you are. No sudden movements, comprende?"

"Uh, yeah, comprende," Scarlet mumbled, lowering her hands and placing them on her hips. She watched as Miss Ortega crouched beneath the truck's enclosed cargo area and reached into the exposed chassis. After a few seconds, she let out a quiet grunt and emerged from underneath the truck, holding a black metal box. She waved it at Scarlet, then wound up and hurled it over the construction site fence. After watching it splash into the bay, she explained, "That was the device Rafa was using to track the truck. It's how I was able to find you so easily. I'm amazed you didn't consider that there might have been a tracker before now."

Mentally punching herself for not thinking about the possibility of the truck being tracked by Rafa, Scarlet narrowed her eyes and asked, "Why are you trying to help me?"

In response, Ortega shook her head and answered, "Up until a few weeks ago, I trusted Rafa to help put my plans in place, but as time went on, I realized he was trying to use me for my money. Es una tragedia—it was I who convinced him to lead the rebellion against West Fortuna to begin with. Now, my plans are in his hands, and it looks as though he wants me dead. I'm related to him, you see. If I die, my wealth goes to him. I can't trust him anymore. Just last week, he tried to kill me by sending me on a suicide mission to Titania, where I was supposed to assassinate President Iris Vinca. Your friends almost finished me off. I barely escaped with my life."

She sighed and then finished, "That's why I'm helping you. Don't think that it's because I like you—I despise Corneria and the weak-minded _idiotas_ who worship her. But now, Rafa must be stopped first and foremost."

Trying to digest the information she had been handed, Scarlet balked and then asked, "Where are you going after this? If you really want to take down Rafa, we could use your help."

"No," Miss Ortega whispered. "After this, I will go back into hiding until the time is right. I'm used to it. I've grown to enjoy the solitude. I have only my own agenda now." She turned and looked at the cargo truck. Then, she glanced over her shoulder at Scarlet and added, "I know what's in this truck, and I know what you want next. The Arwing air superiority fighter is in the hands of the Affirmed Security group in northern Titania near the Venom Wastelands. You only have five days to stop them from delivering it to East Fortuna."

Scarlet nodded. "Anything else you'd like to say?"

"Sí," Ortega replied, "Fox y Krystal es el OTP."

For a moment, Scarlet raised a finger to her lips and tried to translate her comment. Then, it dawned on her. "Hey!"

She looked around, ready to respond with an angry remark, but Miss Ortega was gone.

With an angry growl, Scarlet shook her head and walked towards the bay.


	35. Mending Wounds

**Arc VI: Party Crashing**

 _Part 8: Mending Wounds_

Are you sure this is a good idea, Rena?

"Shut up, roadkill. Of course it is. If I have to use that wheelchair or hobble around on a crutch for one more day, I'm going to scream."

In Foxfire Enterprises' research and development room, Rena sat on a small bench stolen from the exercise area. Rena wore her normal cutoff hoodie and short shorts combination, but this time, her long, striped socks were absent. Instead, two metallic gunmetal sleeves covered her shins—both her broken one and the one that still functioned correctly.

Lucas paced in front of her, shaking his head in disapproval of what she intended to do. "Look, Rena, I get that you don't like being crippled. I wouldn't enjoy it either. Broken bones take time to heal, though."

"Time that I don't have," said Rena. "Besides, this is going to work. There's no farking way I'm going to miss out on the next mission because of one stupid broken leg. Now, plug those two wires into the back of the leg stabilizers and press the button on the console over there."

Lucas sighed and shook his head. "If you're sure about this."

"I am. Do it." Taking a deep breath, she watched as Lucas knelt at her feet and picked up a duo of 14-guage electrical wires with special connectors affixed to the ends. Then, following her orders, he clipped them into the ports built into the back of Rena's strange bracers. He walked towards a control panel near the room's back wall and stared at the button Rena intended for him to press, but some invisible internal force prevented him from following through.

"Lucas, what's wrong? Press the button already," Rena huffed.

In response, Lucas lowered his head and let out a deep sigh. "I…I don't know if I can."

"Why not? Don't you care about me?"

"Rena, that's exactly why I don't think I can do this," Lucas explained, turning around to look at her. "If this is going to do what you're telling me it'll do, it will scar you permanently. Look—don't blow up on me, but…you're beautiful. I don't want you to permanently damage yourself just to fix something that will heal on its own in a few months."

Rena froze. Something about Lucas's concern for her caused a spring of emotion to well up inside of her. The rarity of such feelings gave her a profound sense of unease, but one impulsive response occurred to her.

"Lucas, come here."

The black and blue jackal crossed the tile floor, unsure of whether to expect approval from Rena or a punch in the face. When he reached the bench where Rena sat, he asked her, "What do you want?"

"Sit on my lap," she whispered.

Lucas's eyes widened, but he had no intentions of denying her request. Being cautious not to accidentally put any undue pressure on her broken leg, he sat on Rena's lap and stared into her ice blue eyes at point blank range. To his surprise, Rena leaned forward, put her arms around his neck, and drew him into a gentle embrace. She brushed her muzzle against his and told him, "I never thought I'd meet someone like you—someone who accepts me for who I am instead of trying to change me to fit their ideas for who they think I should be. I can't believe I'm saying this, but… I love you."

Her voice faltered as she spoke, and despite her best efforts, words failed her after her admission. So, instead, she pressed her lips against Lucas's and gave him a gentle kiss. Too startled and flabbergasted to think straight—let along formulate a cohesive response—Lucas pulled back and stared at her in shock.

"I've never done that before," Rena admitted. "You're the first."

Looking around the room to make sure he hadn't somehow slipped into a hallucinatory spell, Lucas asked her, "Do you mind if I return the favor?"

Rena returned a sad, uncomfortable frown, but said nothing.

"Oh…" Lucas apologized. "Does that gross you out?"

"A little bit. That whole 'tongue in mouth' thing is nasty. Tongues are really disgusting, if you think about it."

"I understand. Is there something else I can do that wouldn't bother you?"

Rena paused for thought and then answered, "If you want to give me a few little kisses on my face while stroking my hair, I think I would like that. Or, we could just cuddle later."

"How about both?"

"Works for me," said Rena.

Having the opportunity to shower Rena with physical love caught Lucas by surprise. If he was honest with himself, he only expected to get as far as making playful comments about her and not fearing violent recompense. However, he refused to miss out on the chance in front of him. As Rena suggested, he sifted through her white hair with his right hand while planting innumerable kisses on her face. Then, before pulling away, he placed one final kiss on her lips and let out a deep breath when she smiled in response to it.

" _Holy Arceus, I never thought flirting with her would lead anywhere!"_ Lucas thought to himself.

For nearly a minute, the two held each other in a soft embrace, not wanting to move or leave the intimate moment they had created for themselves. Then, Rena gave Lucas a pat on the shoulder and said, "Thank you for caring about me. I still want to do the procedure, though. Get back up to the console and press the button."

Lucas gritted his teeth and stood up. Rena knew he would have preferred to yank the wires out of her strange leg bracers and strap her medical boot back on, but despite that, he followed her orders. His finger hovered over the red button on the console for five seconds. Then, he pressed it.

A surge of electricity powered through both lines and coursed through Rena's bracers. The electric current activated the mechanical pieces built into the braces and caused them to extend into her leg. Rena bit her tongue and gasped as the pressure and the stabbing sensation increased until it reached a fever pitch. With her broken leg in particular, the pain blazed through her nervous system with more intensity than any injury she had faced before. Nerves, blood vessels, and even her bones themselves cried out in pain, but there would be no relief.

She tried to look unfazed, but her pain reflexes caused tears to well up in her eyes. Whimpering, she looked at Lucas and tried to nonverbally implore him not to stop the procedure. Then, as soon as it started, the electrical current cut out on its own. The throbbing, stabbing pain still rifled through both legs—mainly her left one. Two faint trails of blood dripped down both of her shins, but she knew to expect this and knew that it was not dangerous.

"A…Are you okay?" Lucas asked, eyes wide and ears erect.

Rena nodded and unplugged the electrical lines from her bracers. "Fark, this hurts so much."

Lucas took a tentative step towards her. "Do you need any help getting up? Do I need to carry you back to your room?"

"No, no," Rena answered with a dismissive hand wave. "I need to try this." Breathing heavily, she pushed herself up from the bench and tried to stand. The pain in both legs made staying upright a chore, but she managed to keep her balance. Then, she swallowed and shifted her weight onto her broken leg.

There was no additional pain.

"Yes!" Rena screamed, pumping her fist in the air. "Fark you, fragile biology!"

Unfortunately, her exuberance caused her to lose her balance. With a yelp, she toppled over and caught herself in a push-up position on the floor. "Um…give me a minute to get my balance back."

She rolled over and sat up on the floor. As the minutes ticked by, the stabbing sensation in her leg died down to a dull tingle. At that point, she pushed herself up and stood in place for half a minute until she felt confident enough to take a step.

Pointing towards a large metal locker mounted against the side way, she told Lucas, "Help me out. I need to open that thing."

Lucas nodded and draped one of Rena's arms over his shoulder, then helped her cross the floor. When they reached the locker, Rena escaped his grasp and opened the latch. The locker door swung open, revealing an assortment of items that gave Lucas a puzzled expression. Inside, a tight-fitting black bodysuit with a prominent yellow stripe hung from a hook in the top of the locker. Next to it, an assortment of black, armor-like components sat in a pile.

"What are these?" Lucas asked.

"This," Rena replied, pointing to the armor, "Is a suit of power armor that I finished putting together yesterday. I got the plans from Andross's old base. A stupid dead bear who turned out not to be dead tried to get my senpai to destroy everything in the base, but I was smarter than him and saved all the best stuff. It runs on a battery that charges when you move. It's dead now, but according to the blueprint, it can give you extra strength and speed, in addition to giving you more protection and making you look super badass."

Lucas crossed his arms. "Interesting. What's with the bodysuit? Isn't that too 'sexy' for you?"

"Yeah, about that," Rena groaned, "It's kind of important to wear something under that armor because there are gaps in it, and I found out my normal clothes wouldn't work very well."

"That's fine. Where did you get it, though? You don't exactly find stuff like that in the department store bargain bin."

Taking a step away from the locker, Rena blushed and said, "I had to order it. I tried to tell the person who sold it to me to make it as unsexy as possible, but either that's impossible or that woman intentionally ignored me."

Lucas let out a chuckle. "You ordered it from a fetishist, didn't you?"

"Shut up!" Rena exclaimed. "It's not my fault that the only person who makes practical catsuits also happens to be that red slut's stepmom." She stopped and composed herself, then said, "I'm going to try the outfit on. Can you leave for a minute?"

"I could just turn around, you know…"

"Oh no no no," Rena replied, waving her finger at Lucas. "The only person who's allowed to be in the same room while I'm naked is my senpai."

"Why is that? You're not in love with him, right?"

"No. It's because I trust him not to get all hot and bothered just because he saw me in my biologically natural state. I really don't see what people find so attractive about each others' naked bodies. If you ask me, the male and female genitalia are absolutely repulsive."

"Speak for yourself, but nudity can be a beautiful thing. I mean, think of all the artwork that's been done on that alone. In a way, it speaks of the innocence and naivety that's been lost on the modern world."

At this, Rena burst into sardonic laughter. "PFFT! 'Innocence?' Ha! Yeah right! Also, art is for people with nothing better to do than splatter vegetative compounds on a dead tree and hope other people like it."

"Other people don't have to like it for it to be art," Lucas replied. "Actually, some people think it's _more_ artistic if no one likes it."

Rena raised an eyebrow. "That might be the stupidest thing I've ever heard. Now get out and let me get changed, you perv!"

"Fine, fine!" Lucas relented, raising his hands and marching towards the exit door.

After the door closed behind him, Rena smirked and set to work changing out of her normal clothing and slipping into her new bodysuit. She disliked the sexual implications that the garment placed upon her, but as a form of underwear for a suit of armor, it worked perfectly. Once she zipped up her bodysuit, she began clipping the various pieces of power armor together, starting with the boots and moving upwards.

Securing the chestpiece and shoulder pauldrons, she looked around for a mirror and frowned when she saw none. "Hey, Lucas, you can come back in now."

The door opened a second later, and the jackal reentered the room.

"So, how does it look?" Rena asked.

Lucas stopped in his tracks and scratched his muzzle, a pensive expression on his face. Then, he replied, "That's sexy."

The look on Rena's face took a turn for the worst. "Wrong answer!"

Before Lucas could so much as think, a metallic implement screamed past his head, missing it by mere inches. He turned around in the blink of an eye in time to see one of Rena's pizza wheels embed itself in the back of the concrete wall. "Whoa—hold on! I was just kidding! You weren't going to kill me for that, were you?"

"No. Of course not," Rena replied, a grin on her lips. "If I had wanted to kill you, I would have thrown it horizontally and chopped your head off."

Lucas rolled his eyes and moved towards Rena. "Good to know."

"So, what do you _really_ think about my outfit?" Rena asked, tilting her head to the side.

"I think it looks like you might have been playing _Metal Cog: Lightning_ a bit too much."

Rena grinned. "I'm going to take that as a compliment. There's another part of the outfit, you know."

Raising an eyebrow, Lucas asked, "What's that?"

Rena pointed towards a much larger locker to the left of the first one and walked towards it. After disabling the padlock on the door, she flung it open to reveal a motley assortment of weapons ranging from the ordinary to the bizarre. Handguns, knives, a shotgun with a chainsaw bolted to the barrel, throwing stars, brass knuckles, polearms, pizza wheels of various sizes and blade types, and swords lined the inside of the locker. One particular implement caught her fancy.

Rena snatched up a katana and then turned to face Lucas, slamming the locker shut in the process. She brandished the sword and lowered herself into a mock combat stance. "I've wanted to use this for a long time, but it never felt right until now."

"You _do_ know how to use that thing, right?" Lucas asked.

"Of course, stupid," Rena huffed. "I know how to use all the weapons in my collection. This sword is made out of the same metal that my pizza wheels are, which means that it'll slice through just about anything."

Lucas gazed skeptically at her. "How exactly do your pizza wheels do that, anyway?"

"Some questions should not be asked," Rena replied, wagging a finger at him.

"Okay, I'm just going to say it's magic, then," Lucas commented, knowing that attributing anything in the real world to superstitions or religion irritated Rena to no end.

Sure enough, she took the bait. "No, dumbass. Magic isn't real."

Lucas grinned. "Then what is it?"

Traces of unease appeared on Rena's face. "Um, it's really complicated. I don't think you'd understand."

"I'm not as dumb as I look," Lucas replied, still smiling from ear to ear. "Go on—tell me."

Rena froze. Then, she turned away from Lucas and yelled, "Change the scene! Go see what Fox and his stupid bimbo are up to! Do it now! _Pleeeeease!"_

* * *

 _-_ § _-_

* * *

Back in Eladard, the rest of Fox's team found themselves in a familiar situation—namely, sitting in front of a television in a hospital waiting room.

After dropping off the Landmaster at Felix's storage yard and being picked up by Miyu and Cassie, Scarlet managed to locate a 24-hour store that sold clothing. Sadly, but also obviously, said store had exactly zero catsuits in their inventory. This forced Scarlet to acquire a set of clothing that she knew would either end up trashed or donated to charity within a week. At the moment, she wore a pair of white denim short shorts and a powder blue graphic tee with a stick figure and a string of Eladardian symbols on it. In the native language, it read "Life is Tolerable," but Scarlet had no way of knowing that.

"This is itchy," the vixen grumbled, picking at her shirt.

"And your catsuits aren't?" Miyu asked in response. "By the way, you owe me 60 Eladard Credits, which comes out to…I dunno—about C25-ish? If you want, you could just give me one of your catsuits as a payment."

Scarlet turned to her right to look at her and raised an eyebrow. "I thought you just said that my catsuits were itchy. Why would you want one?"

Blushing, Miyu sheepishly replied, "Well, um, they're kind of sexy. I'd like to try one on sometime."

In the seat to Miyu's right, Cassie elbowed her and said, "That's the spirit!"

"Ugh. You two are _horrible_ role models, you know that?" Miyu groaned while shaking her head.

Scarlet adopted a scandalous smirk and purred, "It's just our way of having fun." Then, she winked at Cassie and blew her a kiss.

Seated to the left of the three women, Slippy felt like the third—actually, fourth—wheel in the operation. Having little desire to talk to the red vixen seated next to him, he rested his head on his hand and stared at the television screen on the wall. As it had in Titania, it displayed a nightly world news program. Considering that he kept up to speed on the more important developments in the world—at least the ones that would impact mercenary work—little of the programming held much interest for him.

For a few minutes, the news anchors mulled over the surprising outcome of the Titanian presidential election, in which the brazen, pro-Macbeth upstart Sergio del Rio managed to upstage Iris Vinca and deny her re-election. The anchors discussed the possible trade and foreign policy changes that could occur under his leadership; but since the Eladard-based news network had no dog in the fight, so to speak, they quickly transitioned to another topic.

However, this one attracted Slippy's attention.

" _A suspected terror attack was launched on the Cornerian Memorial Amphitheater last night. There were no recorded fatalities or serious injuries,"_ the male anchor—a slender barn owl—stated. _"Local authorities are investigating the incident, which occurred during the middle of a concert held by the award-winning multi-platinum band Dimeback. Witnesses say that that all power to the auditorium failed all at once, including power to all concertgoers' phones and electronic devices. The Cornerian Department of Public Protection (DPP) is all but certain that this was a deliberate attack involving an electromagnetic weapon. At this point, only four militaries in the entire world are known to have EMP weapons in their arsenals, which points to this attack being linked to an enemy of Corneria. The case has been turned over to the Cornerian DIS for further review. We will update you on this story as more information comes in."_

" _Correction: four militaries and Rena,"_ thought Slippy.

As soon as the anchor finished speaking, his colleague—a silver finch with spiked up head plumage—interjected, _"Roger, the DIS doesn't exist."_

" _Yes, it does, Felicia. It's in the official report right here. Read it for…"_

" _I'm telling you—the DIS doesn't exist; and even if they do, they definitely aren't gathering highly classified intelligence on foreign governments and allies without their knowledge or permission."_

" _Sounds like a suspiciously specific denial to me,"_ Roger grumbled.

" _Well, it doesn't make it any less true."_

Frustration in his voice, Roger turned to face the camera and said, _"Coming up next: Dreyson Morgan reports on the strangest and most feared gang in Eladard—the Kitanai Sagashi Warrior Clan. What do they want, and what can you do to protect yourself and your loved ones from them? We'll be back after the break."_

Scarlet snickered and nudged Slippy. "Heh. All you need is a gas can and a lighter. Works like a charm."

"Are you trying to tell me something?" Slippy asked back.

The vixen nervously shook her head and replied, "I'm just making an observation, that's all. Oh look—that must be Fox's doctor over there." She pointed to a collie wearing square-rimmed glasses and a white coat as he entered the waiting room and addressed them.

"Good news," said the canine, "Your friend's injuries weren't bad at all. We need to keep him here for a few more days to make sure there isn't any risk of infection, but apart from that, he's good to go."

Despite his words being intended to console the group, a general feeling of dread fell over them, especially Scarlet. A scowl on her face, she stood up and walked towards the doctor. "Listen—we're on a very tight schedule. We don't have the luxury of waiting for your precautions. If Fox is able to move, we need to get him out of here _now_."

The doctor scratched the back of his head and replied, "I understand your situation, but it's our official procedure to keep patients like your friend here for a few days. Think of it as a safety measure so that he doesn't have to come back next week if his recovery doesn't go as planned."

"You don't understand any of what's going on here," Scarlet snapped, her hackles rising. "Tell me, who owns this hospital?"

"Um…Gaia Medical," the doctor anxiously replied.

"Good. It just so happens that the Gaia Corporation's CEO is a friend of mine. If you won't let Fox leave tonight, I'm going to take matters into my own hands—and I have a feeling it might not turn out that well for you."

"Okay. If the Gaia CEO is your friend, get him on the phone. Otherwise, I'm going to ignore you," the doctor declared, crossing his arms.

Scarlet scowled and pulled her phone out of her shorts. "You're making this so much harder than it needs to be, you know that?"

Still seated next to Miyu, Cassie crossed her legs in unease and suggested, " _You're_ the one making this harder than it needs to be, Scarlet. For real, take a chill pill!"

Her phone held in front of her, Scarlet turned her head towards Cassie and glared at her. "If you ever say that again, I will punch you."

"Really, Scarlet," Miyu added, standing up and confronting her. "You know, you're acting a lot like Rena right now. Is that what you're trying to do here? Just call Felix and get this over with. No need to get pissy."

For a matter of seconds, Scarlet stared into Miyu's eyes with such intensity that the lynx felt as if she could rip her soul to pieces if she wanted to. Then, Scarlet relented and sighed, "Fine. You're right. It's been a rough day for me, okay?"

"What's been so rough about it? We got everything we came for. You seemed to enjoy your dance with Cassie, too."

"I…I don't want to talk about it. I did something horrible, and… I think it's going to come back to bite me big time. Let me just call Felix and get him to deal with this. Sorry for getting mad, everyone."

Shaking her head, she pulled up Felix's contact information and contacted him.

* * *

 _-_ § _-_

* * *

Three hours passed. The time in Eladard transitioned from near midnight at the time of the escape from the Red Group facility to 4:00 A.M. With Fox out of the hospital with a bandaged arm, the team returned to Felix's guest house, where they quickly fell asleep. Considering the stress and the amount of energy they had expended in the previous hours, none of them expected to wake up before noon.

Scarlet, however, struggled to sleep. A primal fear unknown to everyone else plagued her mind, although if they had been aware of it, they would have understood her plight. While Fox snored quietly beside her with his arm draped across her stomach, Scarlet shuddered beneath the sheets. In time, though, her exhaustion caught up with her. She drifted off to the land of dreams.

…In actuality, more or less the land of nightmares.

* * *

 _-_ § _-_

* * *

 _The dingy seaside streets of Eladard stretched in front of her, with no one in sight._

 _Except the one person behind her._

 _The air in her lungs felt hot and heavy, as did her exhausted leg muscles. No matter which side streets she sprinted into in an attempt at evading her pursuer, she could not seem to pull away. Skidding into a dark alleyway to her left, she leaped over three bags of trash and looked over her shoulder upon landing. To her horror, a flash of yellow rounded the corner behind her. She pushed herself to sprint faster, but her legs felt as if they were made of iron._

 _She looked over her shoulder again, only to see the yellow menace drawing closer, weapon in hand. In her terror, she tripped over a pothole in the road and fell flat on her face. Ignoring the newly-smeared dirt on her hands and her catsuit, she pushed herself up and dug her heels into the ground. All the while, the furious screams of her pursuer filled her ears._

 _Then, suddenly, a screech of pain rifled through her being. She looked down and saw a blood-soaked pizza wheel protruding from her eviscerated stomach._

\- 0 -

With a scream, Scarlet awakened and sat bolt upright in bed. Her body felt as cold as a glacier and would have been covered in sweat if she had not been a vulpine, because as Nail Strafer noted in response to an earlier story, foxes cannot sweat.

Fox groaned next to her, but remained asleep until Scarlet threw her arms around him and throttled him in a desperate attempt at finding some sort of comfort. In that moment, she needed to feel the softness of his fur and the warmth of his body. She needed to hear him tell her that everything would be okay in the end, even though she saw no hope for herself.

Coughing, Fox rolled over and opened his eyes, which happened to coincide with his muzzle being buried between Scarlet's breasts. He blushed, then lifted his head to look into his girlfriend's terrified eyes.

"W…What's wrong, Scarlet?" he mumbled, his voice drenched in sleep.

Scarlet sat speechless for a moment, until sanity returned to her. "I had a bad dream."

"It must have been pretty bad if it made you wake up and halfway strangle me," Fox replied.

The vixen's ears fell. "Yeah, sorry about that. I don't think I'll be able to sleep anymore tonight."

Fox yawned and sat up, then stroked Scarlet's shoulder. "What's going on with you? Something's up. I can tell."

Shaking her head, she dropped her shoulders and said, "I did something horrible near the storage area. I think it's going to be the end of me."

For a moment, Fox thought about making a lighthearted joke about the previous statement, but when he realized how serious Scarlet was about it, he changed his tone. "What did you do?"

"I killed Rena's sister," she whispered. "While I was driving the truck, three of Rena's old gang members forced me to stop and take them on. I killed the first two. After that, Rena's sister tried to get me to spare her, but I knew that if I did that, the rest of her gang would find out what I did and would hunt me down for the rest of my life. So, I killed her when she tried to run away."

Fox swallowed. Fear became apparent in his eyes. "You're afraid of what Rena might do if she finds out, aren't you?"

"Yeah," Scarlet whimpered. "What's worse is that I feel like I have to apologize to her somehow. But if she knows that I murdered her sister, she'll probably kill me in my sleep with her pizza wheel."

Gripping Scarlet's shoulder with more force than before, Fox emphasized, "She'll have to go through me first. And she won't do that."

"Maybe not, but when you're not around, there's no telling what she'll do. She'll be plotting my murder for weeks, waiting for you to go on a supply run; waiting for me to go out on the town; waiting for me to turn my back so she can poison my food without me knowing it. I don't know what I'm going to do! Fox…please don't panic, but I might have to leave the team because of this."

Fox's eyes widened. "Scarlet, I think you're overreacting. I never even knew Rena _had_ a sister. Knowing Rena, she might have hated her sister and won't do anything to you if she finds out that you killed her. Try to look at the bright side, okay? Plus, if she really takes it that badly and acts like she's going to murder you, I'll fire her and file a police report. Does that make you feel any better?"

"Just a little," Scarlet replied.

In spite of her admissions, Fox still felt as though something remained unresolved in her heart. Something buried beneath the surface darkened her countenance with a form of anxiety and uncertainty that had not been present before. For a few seconds, he thought about what to say next while silently admiring her body. Something about seeing her sans clothing in a nonsexual context came across as strikingly beautiful.

"There's something else. I can tell," Fox finally spoke.

Scarlet sighed. "You're right. There are a few things. One of them…I don't want to talk about right now. It's not the right time."

"What's the other thing, then?"

"I met Christina Ortega," Scarlet answered. "She's a real person."

Ears on end, Fox demanded, "What did she look like?"

"She had dark red and gray fur, but her outfit was…well, weird. It looked like it came out of the 19th century. All black, a dress with a corset in it, a huge hat with lace, stiletto boots…it wasn't normal. With the boots, she was as tall as me. She definitely wasn't slight."

"Did she say anything to you?"

Scarlet tapped her lips with her finger, then replied, "She told me there was a tracker on the truck, then she got rid of it and told me where to find the Arwing. She said she was unhappy with how Rafa's been acting lately and wants out. Isn't that the same thing you said about Krystal?"

"Yeah, it is," said Fox. "She said that Ortega might have been feeling that way, too. So, does this mean that Miss Ortega is on our side now?"

Scarlet gave her head a tentative shake. "Not really. She told me she still hates Corneria. She very much has her own agenda. However, she does want to stop Rafa. At least she was nice enough to tell me where the Arwing is being kept."

"Where?"

"Northern Titania. A PMC called Affirmed Security has it. They're going to deliver it to East Fortuna in five days. If we want it, you're going to need to move really quickly."

Fox frowned. "What do you mean, ' _you're_ going to need to move quickly?'"

"Remember, Titania? I can't go there. Besides, my Zoness swimsuit shoot is this week. I'm sorry, but I can't go with you."

"For real?" Fox grumbled, crossing his arms. "The Arwing is a hell of a lot more important than a photoshoot. I'm going to need all the help I can get. Please, come with me. If you do, I'll let you try out that creepy, disturbing, kinky fetish you have on me."

A faint glint appeared in Scarlet's eyes. Sadly, it disappeared as quickly as it came. "I'll think about it. I really do want to help. You have to understand how dangerous it is for me to go to Titania, though. Also, I've already rescheduled this photoshoot before. They're not going to let me move it again without a damn good reason."

"I think saving the world is a 'damn good reason,'" Fox countered.

"I think saving the world is embellishing things a bit," Scarlet chuckled. "Look, if I can come with you to Titania, I'll do it. You have my word."

She sighed, then rested her head on her pillow. Despite being reassured of her safety, she still felt fear tugging at her mind. How was Fox to know how Rena would respond to any of what she had done? In her mind, nothing could assure her that she would not end up murdered by a flying pizza wheel or an exploding ninja star. She thought about trying to convince Fox to stay awake and to 'love her fear away,' so to speak, but she knew better than anyone else that Fox needed his rest after having several shotgun pellets removed from his arm just a matter of hours ago. That, and introducing impromptu sex scenes is General Whitefur's department, not mine.

While Fox fell asleep within minutes of comforting her, sleep evaded Scarlet. Apart from thinking of Rena, she pondered the upcoming train of events. The next day would bring a journey back to Corneria and the start of the plot to steal the Arwing from Affirmed Security. How would they accomplish that? She knew that both she and Fox owned pilot's licenses and had trained in fighter jets before as part of the Cornerian Army's Advanced Soldier Training Program, but merely obtaining the aircraft seemed to present an impossible challenge.

Similarly, she felt guilty about not helping Fox with it. She loved him and wanted to do everything possible to make Foxfire Enterprises' operations successful, but at the same time, she had her own life and career to deal with. She had never officially joined Fox's unit, either. That knowledge eased her guilt somewhat, but not enough to silence her internal angst.

" _Fox is right—the Arwing is so much more important than my photoshoot. What am I going to do?"_

After nearly an hour of lying awake, Scarlet once again fell asleep. Thankfully, this time, her dreams remained blissfully free of the murderous yellow banshee.


	36. I Got Better

**Arc VII: Wings in the Wasteland**

 _Part 1: I Got Better  
_

After the long flight from Eladard back to Corneria City, Fox felt like doing anything other than planning his team's next objective. Under normal circumstances, he would have brought Scarlet back to the base with him; but to his frustration, she chose to retire to her apartment and begin dolling herself up for her upcoming photoshoot in Zoness.

Having already relayed the information on the Arwing and Affirmed Security to Rena, Fox hoped that she would have at least gotten a small head start on the operation before he and the rest of his team returned to Corneria. With Miyu traveling back to her friend Fay's apartment to spend a few hours with her, Slippy was the only remaining team member still with Fox at the moment. Like Fox, he would have preferred to be doing something else. He hid it well, but he felt nearly as exhausted as his employer did.

After paying the driver from the airport for his services, he and Slippy stepped out of the courtesy car and walked towards the entrance to the base.

"It's still here, which means that Rena didn't do anything crazy while we were away. That's good…I guess," Fox mumbled. "You've still got Zippy's remains, right?"

Slippy looked at the massive duffel bag slung over his shoulder and replied, "Yeah. It's pretty much scrap metal, though. I don't think there's much we can do with it."

"Well, here's to hoping that USB drive with all the Arwing and Landmaster data on it managed to channel an airline black box and survive being shot with a .50 caliber Gatling gun. Yeah, right—who am I kidding? It's probably fubar."

"Yeah, probably," Slippy lamented.

Approaching the front door, Fox scanned his official Foxfire Enterprises™ ID card and waited until the door unlocked for him. He helped Slippy maneuver his triceratops of a duffel bag through the door, then stepped into the main hallway. He saw Taiga at the receptionist's desk to his left, although Edgar was noticeably absent.

Turning to Slippy, Fox said, "Go ahead and put your stuff away. I have to talk with Taiga and Rena before I need you for anything. Oh, and also, I need the bag with Zippy in it. Can you hand that over?"

"Yeah, sure thing," Slippy replied before tossing his bag to Fox and darting off into the nearest hallway.

Fox shook his head and walked towards the receptionist's kiosk. As he neared it, he looked to his left and observed the hole in the wall created by Slippy's previous fourth wall break. Apart from the sloppily applied police tape that prevented access to the garage on the other side of the wall, it looked the same as it had when he smashed through it. Rolling his eyes, Fox walked up to the receptionist's desk and slapped his hands on the counter.

Distracted by the computer screen in front of her, Taiga went bug-eyed and practically leaped out of her chair. The sudden movement caused said chair to race backwards and fall over, giving Taiga an unceremonious crash landing on the hard tile floor. In the blink of an eye, she jumped to her feet and sprinted to the computer, where she frantically began closing numerous less-than-decent internet windows.

To her horror, Fox caught a glimpse of the many windows before she could close them all.

He crossed his arms and frowned. "Really, Taiga? Watching yaoi porn on company time _again?"_

The tigress blushed so vibrantly that her white face took on a shade of pink. "I'm sorry! I just opened one link, and one thing led to another. You know how it goes."

Fox retained his unsympathetic expression. "Uh huh. Now, if you hadn't been randomly surfing the internet instead of filing company documents, you wouldn't have seen 'that one link' in the first place. Also, why are you into yaoi to begin with?"

"Hey, stop judging me," Taiga snapped, putting her hands on her hips and facing Fox. "Guys like you love watching girls make out with each other. Why is it a problem if I'm the same way with guys?"

"Because you did it at work," Fox replied. He held up two fingers. "That's strike two—three strikes and you're out at the old ball game, Taiga. Don't do it again."

Taiga lowered her head and sighed. "Okay. It won't happen again."

"Good. Now, where's Edgar? Did he have to go to the bathroom or something?"

"Not exactly…" Taiga trailed off while looking at the empty chair where the morbidly depressed avian normally sat. "I found this in front of his computer yesterday. Here, read it."

She picked up a small sheet of paper and handed it to Fox. In a matter of seconds, the reality of it sunk in.

* * *

 _This ghastly frame returned to dust_

 _My own sustenance failing_

 _My bones, my flesh, they turn to rust_

 _This heart of mine is aching_

 _I thought in time that I would see_

 _My love for her enduring_

 _But now my dearest lies beneath_

 _To be with her, I journey_

* * *

Fox dropped the poem and snapped, "Oh, for crying out loud. He killed himself."

"That's what it looks like," Taiga replied.

"That's just great," Fox grumbled, "Since Northpoint, we've lost our demolitions expert, our pilot, our logistics guy, my wife, and now the finance officer. Who's next?"

"Hopefully Rena," Taiga suggested, the tip of her spotted tail curling in excited anticipation.

Fox ignored his teammate's dislike for the yellow vixen and instead asked, "Speaking of her, has she been up to anything in my absence?"

Taiga shook her head. "Not that I know of."

"That's interesting, because I think she might have let somebody into the base without my permission. You haven't seen anything like that, have you?"

"Um, no? All my entry and exit files show normal activity while you were away. She never left the building. The only people coming or going were me, Edgar, and a few delivery drivers."

Fox rolled his eyes. "…Unless Rena hacked your computer in the middle of the night and deleted any notifications that would incriminate her."

"Impossible. My password is uncrackable."

"That's not a word," Fox observed.

"It is now."

"It's not, but whatever. Still, you _do_ realize that she doesn't need your password to get in. If she managed to give herself access as a system administrator, she could do almost anything she wanted in here. Since the computers picked up some viruses from your first yaoi-watching session and forced me to get Rena to clean them up, I'd say there's a good chance she has administrative access now."

Taiga frowned. "Dammit. I'm so sorry about that."

"Hmm. It's a bigger problem for you than it is for me," Fox replied with a shrug. "Now you see what happens when you break the rules. It doesn't affect just you—it affects all of us."

"You're right; fine. C…Can you go take care of something else now? I um…actually have a lot to catch up with."

"Sure, Taiga. Remember: three strikes."

"Yeah…yeah, I got it," the leopardess nervously replied.

Having corrected his receptionist's behavior, Fox walked further down the main hallway and turned left into a dimly-lit corridor near the end of the facility. He expected to hear metal riffs emanating from Rena's room down the hall. However, nothing but an eerie silence reached his ears. Creeping up to the door, he knocked and then turned the handle.

An unexpected sight greeted him inside the door. Rena lounged on her bed; but upon closer examination, Fox realized that she was actually sitting on the lap of a black and blue jackal while he stroked the fur on her bare stomach. The yellow vixen held her eyes closed, and every few seconds, a contented 'murr' sound escaped through the smile on her lips.

As soon as the jackal spotted Fox, he froze and stopped cuddling Rena, which caused her to open her eyes.

"AAAAA! Get out! What are you doing in here, Senpai?!" she screeched.

Fox crossed his arms. "Better question: what is _he_ doing in here? And why are you cuddling, anyway?"

Instead of explaining her guest's presence or why she seemed to be engaging in a romantic activity, Rena sat up and pleaded, "Please, don't make him leave! He's harmless! He hasn't damaged anything!"

"That didn't answer my question at all. Rena, you can't just let people in like this."

"But he's my frieeeend," she whined.

Fox rolled his eyes, then addressed Rena's visitor. "Who are you? How do you know Rena… Oh, wait—you're that guy who had the motorcycle in Titania."

"Right. My name's Lucas," the jackal replied. "I was in Zoness doing some research on the Ortega family before Rena invited me to come here."

"Go on," said Fox, ears suddenly on end.

Lucas narrowed his eyes, as if he had no intention to disclose that information. "My research was not meant for you."

At that moment, Fox felt the need to take charge of the situation. In his mind, if he lacked the ability to deal with someone who had no right to be in his base, he had no right to run his own team. "Okay then," he declared, "Unless you tell me what you found about the Ortegas, I'm going to kick you out of my base, and that would really disappoint Rena. You don't want to do that, do you?"

Lucas said nothing back to him and growled instead.

"Last chance, Lucas."

Turning around on the bed, Rena implored her friend, "Just tell him. He needs to know what you found, too."

"Fine," the canine relented. "The person who's really behind the East Fortuna uprising is a 150-year-old duchess of Imperial Macbeth who inherited the entirety of the Ortega family's fortune and is now using it to buy her way back into power. And no—I have no idea how she's still alive at that age."

Fox uncrossed his arms and took a tentative step towards the bed. He tilted his head to the side in confusion. "What's her name? Christina?"

"That's right," Lucas replied. "Look—it makes as little sense to me as it does to you, but that's what everything I saw was telling me. I'll admit that I couldn't find much on the Ortega family. It's almost like they systematically destroyed everything that could have possibly told anyone about them. The one good source I found said that the Ortega Manor in Northpoint caught fire and burned to the ground during the Cornerian annexation of Northpoint a hundred years ago. It might have been destroyed intentionally."

"That's unusual," Fox mused. "Anything else?"

"Yeah. A biographer wrote that Christina had terrible allergies and almost never left the manor because of them. She was gorgeous, though. Thing is, she probably wasn't born into the family."

"You mean, she was adopted?"

"That's what I think. You see, I copied the one picture of the family that I could find, and one of the ladies had a completely different facial structure than the rest. But here—this is what I'm still trying to figure out: the guy who wrote the biography on the Ortega family said that Christina never seemed to age. She also supposedly outlived her husband, and she never had kids. Since that would make her the oldest living Ortega, she's entitled to the entire family's fortune. It's a lot of money."

Fox put his hands on his hips. "How much? Like, C1,000,000,000?"

"Not even close. I'm not even sure it can be measured in numbers. Let's just say that she could buy a country if she wanted to. The Ortegas were some of the wealthiest vassals in the Macbeth Empire back when it existed, which means that they kept a lot of the Empire's cash for themselves. A hundred fifty years ago during the Golden Age of Macbeth, that empire was filthy rich."

"Do you have that picture with you?" asked Fox.

In response, Lucas reached into his cargo shorts' pocket and pulled out his phone. After locating the image of the Ortega family, he turned the screen to face Fox and said, "Christina is the one with the veil and the dress with the corset."

Fox touched the screen twice and zoomed in on the enigmatic vixen. The copy of the ancient image lacked color thanks to the technology of the day, but something about Miss Ortega's face struck him as peculiar. Her appearance gave him a sense of déjà vu, but he could not place it.

"She's beautiful," he commented. "And you're right—she doesn't look like the others at all. My teammate Scarlet told me that she met her in Eladard. Everything checks out, so she has to still be out there somewhere."

"Dammit," Lucas huffed, "Your teammate should have killed her when she had the chance. Miss Ortega is a cunning, crafty bitch who's trying to manipulate the world to fit her vision. She's got deep connections with East Fortuna, Macbeth's prime minister, and the new Titanian president. For the record, all three of those areas were parts of the old Macbeth Empire. I think you can tell what she's trying to do."

Fox raised an eyebrow. "What? Rebuild the empire? Why would she do that? Also, she chose to help Scarlet when she met her. Scarlet told me that Christina wants to get rid of Rafa as much as I do. How does that tie into things?"

"It ties in just fine," Lucas answered. "Rafa is an egotistical, renegade leader who probably poses just as much of a threat to her plan as it does to yours. If he can be removed from power and replaced with someone more loyal to her cause, she'll profit from helping you get rid of him. That's my first thought."

"Why would he end up in power in the first place, though?"

"Well, he _is_ family to her, after all. If you can't trust your family, who can you trust? He might have turned on her somewhere along the way and started trying to call the shots," Lucas suggested.

Fox looked away and stroked his muzzle while pondering Lucas's statements. "In other words, I shouldn't trust her when she says she wants to help us."

"Exactly. She's got her own agenda. If yours works with it, she'll be more than happy to drag you along; but if it doesn't, watch out."

"I'll keep that in mind," replied Fox. "Who were you planning to tell all this to, anyway? The Cornerian government?"

"No—Onyx," said Lucas. "If they didn't tell you already, I used to be part of their group. I left because I thought their work was becoming too high-profile to be effective. I still keep in touch with them on my own terms, though."

"I'm interested to see what they'll do with this. Do you think they'll be able to pin down her location?"

"Your guess is as good as mine," Lucas replied, giving Rena a friendly pat on the stomach.

For a moment, Fox paused for thought. Then, he looked at Rena and said, "I need to set up a team meeting over what we're going to do about the Arwing. You already started digging for information on it, right?"

Rena nodded. "Yes, I did. There wasn't much that I could find, but I _did_ pull up a few sorties that the PMC has on their agenda. One of them might have the Arwing in it."

Crossing his arms, Fox replied, "Good. I'll get the team together and set up a meeting a bit later today. Now, Lucas, I need to 'borrow' Rena for a little while."

The jackal leaned against Rena's headboard and replied, "Yeah, sure. You know, I don't have anything going on right now. I was going to go back to Papetoon after saying hi to Rena in person, but if you'd like me to join you on your next mission, I'd be willing to do that."

Rena's eyes suddenly lit up. "Yes! Please, Senpai! Pleeeeease!"

"I won't pay you for it," Fox told Lucas, "But you can help if you want. Just don't screw anything up."

"I don't think you have much to worry about," Lucas assured him.

Fox turned to exit the room, but before he left, he turned to Rena and said, "Come on, Rena. I need to see if you can get anything out of the pile of scrap that used to be your drone. Hey, wait a minute—where's your wheelchair? And your boot?"

Rena smirked. "I got better."

"What do you mean? That's impossible."

"I told you—I got better," Rena insisted. To prove her point, she vaulted off the bed and landed on her hands before performing a triple backflip, which she ended with a flawless corkscrew. After sticking the landing with seemingly no effort, she trotted up to Fox and said, "See?"

Fox admitted that he had become accustomed to the unusual when it came to Rena, but this stretched his willing suspension of disbelief to the limit. "But…how?"

"I'll explain later," Rena replied.

* * *

 _-_ § _-_

* * *

Forty-five minutes later, Fox and Rena emerged from the latter's workshop, where she had managed to miraculously salvage the all-important USB drive from Zippy's ruined shell. The two walked into the base's main hallway and passed the receptionist's desk, where Taiga pounded at her keyboard in a frantic attempt at making up the time lost earlier. Fox looked at her out of the corner of his eye and smirked, which prompted a nervous blush from Taiga.

As Fox and Rena neared the conference room where the rest of the team was set to assemble in a matter of moments, Fox noticed movement through the darkened glass in the base's front door. Seconds later, the door opened to reveal Scarlet, dressed in a red and black catsuit with mesh sewn into some of the joints in a way that would improve the garment's flexibility. She looked less than excited to be where she was, although Fox never expected her to come to the base to begin with.

"Scarlet? What are you doing here?"

The vixen scowled and stamped her foot against the ground in frustration. "There was a stupid little category 5 hurricane that hit the beach in Zoness where I was supposed to have my photoshoot, and now the beach town is a pile of splinters. My manager said they had to call the shoot off until they could find a new place to do it."

"Well…that sucks," Fox replied, trying to sound less than relieved that the obligation preventing her from traveling to Titania with the rest of the team had been eliminated.

"Damn right it does!" Scarlet shouted. "I was really looking forward to that. I guess I'll try to fly out to Dustball Nation with you while my management figures out what to do next. I'm not really sure what to do about Titania, though. Like I told you before, it's dangerous for me to go there."

With a look of derisive scorn on her face, Rena put her hands on her hips and suggested, "If it's too dangerous, don't go. I, for one, would enjoy a mission where I don't have to see your latex-covered gluteals every other second."

Scarlet's hackles rose. "Was that a threat? You know, I'd be more than happy to put you back into that wheelchair again, you entitled little… Wait—how are you walking again? It's only been a week since you broke your leg!"

"I got better," Rena declared.

Noticing the escalating tension between the two vixens, Fox stepped between them and held out his arms. "Whoa, girls—knock it off. Rena, you know, you've had exactly one mission with Scarlet. There's not much for you to complain about."

"It was one mission too many," Rena replied.

Fox narrowed his eyes and glared at the yellow headache. "Sorry, but for the time being, you're going to have to put up with Scarlet. She's part of this for now."

"Hmph."

He then turned to Scarlet and suggested, "We're probably going to be using aliases for this next mission, so I don't think you going will be much of a problem. If you're concerned that someone will recognize you, you can dye your fur and wear different clothes."

Scarlet frowned, then replied, "Yeah, sure…I guess. The good kind of dye doesn't really wash out for two weeks, though. If I dye my fur, you'd better get used to seeing it for a little while."

"In the end, it's about your safety," Fox shrugged. "Now come on—we need to discuss the mission."

Fox led the the vixens into the conference room. Both Scarlet and Rena avoided eye contact, not wanting to incur Fox's wrath by sparking a fire, so to speak. Inside the room, Miyu and Slippy awaited them. As in the meeting from the previous story arc that dragged on far too long, several empty chairs remained. Recalling the previous arc, Fox darted for the chair at the head of the table and sat in it before Rena could pounce and claim it for herself, even though Fox had every right to it.

Scarlet and Rena filled out the last two seats, with the former sitting between Miyu and Slippy and the latter taking a seat next to Fox. With the team assembled, Fox steepled his fingers and addressed the group. "Thanks for being on time, guys. I really appreciate it. Time is of the essence this time around. I mean, it was important in the last mission, but this time, we're _really_ on the clock."

"How is that?" asked Miyu, disinterestedly resting her head on her fist.

"It's because we only have four days until the Arwing leaves for East Fortuna," Fox explained. "We've got to play this one fast. Because of that, we need to figure out everything we can up front. Scarlet—what exactly did Miss Ortega tell you about the Arwing?"

Scarlet shrugged and replied, "Nothing that I haven't already told you. The fighter is with Affirmed Security in Northern Titania, and it's going to ship out for East Fortuna in four days. I'm assuming if we try to nab the fighter, one of us is going to have to fly it."

Upon hearing this, traces of worry appeared on Slippy's face. "Uh, guys, can any of you even fly a fighter jet?"

Both Scarlet and Fox nodded. "We trained to use them a while back. It's why we can fly the transport plane around if we need to," Fox replied. "Still, it's been a really long time since I touched the controls of a real fighter instead of the ones in the simulator in the base here. Both Scarlet and I can fly a fighter, but when it comes to trickier maneuvers, there's definitely a hard limit to our skills."

"That concerns me," said Rena, placing her large tablet on the table in front of her. "Because based on what I found about the sorties Affirmed is going to run, it looks like it might be an escort mission. If you wanted that fighter, you'd have to shoot down the escorts. If you didn't catch them by surprise and take them down quickly, it could turn into a dogfight against professional fighter pilots, which you'd lose. Plus, if you shoot down the escorts, the base might launch missiles at you, which, well…good luck dodging those."

Miyu nodded before taking the opportunity to add her opinion. "That's assuming they're going to actually fly the Arwing to East Fortuna. That's not how most countries get their fighters, is it?"

"No, most of the time, they're transported partially assembled in cargo planes like ours," Fox replied. "In this case, though, I think they might actually fly the fully assembled thing to East Fortuna. It's a very complicated piece of equipment."

"Can it even fly that far? It's a long way from Titania to Fortuna," Slippy noted. "What's the Arwing's range?"

Rena consulted her tablet for a moment, then answered, "2,500 miles. It can make the trip on one tank of fuel."

At the head of the table, Fox grimaced while stroking his muzzle. All indications suggested that an outright theft of the fighter would not come unchallenged. Yet, at the same time, he had a sickly feeling in his stomach that neither he nor Scarlet possessed the skills to take down the fighter's escorts—and that assumed that the Arwing shipped with at least some of its weapons intact.

" _If we only had more time, I'm sure we could think up a way around this. Man, we can't let that thing get to East Fortuna."_

While the rest of the team stared at him and pondered the difficulty of the task at hand, Fox wondered if he could develop his skills enough by training nonstop in the simulator for the rest of the day. _"Useless,"_ he realized. _"The other pilots have been doing this as a career for years."_ However, thinking of the simulator gave him pause for thought. An idea formed in his mind—a horrible, ill-advised idea with failure written all over it. Yet, at the same time, it seemed like the only plan that had any real chance of success.

"I just thought of something," he announced.

The rest of the team stared at him, waiting for his explanation.

"My Uncle Peppy is a Zoness War air force fighter ace. He might be a bit old…and fat…but he's definitely more cut out for the job than I am."

The collective air inside the boardroom fell more rapidly than a lead balloon after being riddled with bullets. "Fox, I don't think that's a good idea. I don't think he could handle the g-forces," Scarlet opined.

While staring at her tablet, Rena suggested, "I don't know about that. Looking at these blueprints here, the Arwing has a special device called a 'G-diffuser' built into it. It's supposed to cancel the g-forces in the cockpit, which means that the only real limit to its maneuverability is its frame, which is as heavily reinforced as anything that's been put together to date."

Scarlet nodded in surprise. "Well then, there might be something to this. There's just one problem. It's kind of a big one."

"What's that?" Fox asked.

"How exactly is your Uncle Peppy going to convince these mercenaries to let him fly the Arwing? I'm sure they already have a flight roster set up for this."

"That _is_ a problem," Fox agreed. "Rena, what do you know about that flight roster?"

"Well, for the sortie they have planned in four days, they have three pilots listed. I can't find anything on them in the Affirmed Security files, but I might be able to do more digging about them online. I've got their names, if that helps."

"Sure. Why not?"

"Okay," said Rena, scrolling through her tablet's screen with her finger. "…The names of the three pilots are 'A. Vela,' 'F. Lombardi,' and flight leader 'O. Onassimus.' Give me a minute, and I'll see what I can find online about them."

The team sat in silence for two minutes until Rena looked up from her screen and asked Fox, "What kind of animal is your uncle Peppy?"

"He's a hare," Fox replied.

In response, Rena pursed her lips and nodded at the image on her screen. "Hey, that's a coincidence. Flight leader Otto Onassimus is some kind of rabbit, although he looks pretty skinny in this picture here."

Cringing, Fox collectively asked the team, "Uh, does anyone here know of any extreme, rapid weight loss solution?"

"Liposuction," Scarlet answered. "I uh…had that done after I graduated high school. It worked, in case you didn't notice. Being a naturally big girl sucks."

"Say what?" asked Miyu, her ears standing on end. "I thought you were all natural."

"I am," Scarlet insisted. "Well, I've never had any injections or implants, at least. Although… I've been kicking around the idea of getting a boob job lately. The girls are starting to sag a bit, unfortunately. I'll be 30 before you know it, so I've got to be prepared."

Feeling awkward and slightly aroused by the direction in which the conversation seemed to be heading, Fox shook his head and stated, "I don't think liposuction is a good solution here. Is there anything else that doesn't involve surgery?"

"Laxatives," Miyu suggested.

This time, it was Slippy's turn to decry a proposal. "Nope. Doesn't work."

A devious grin appeared on Miyu's face. "Is there something you wanna tell us?"

"Nope."

A massive rush of air escaped from Fox's mouth. He leaned forward and leaned his head on his open hand in frustration. "Are you _sure_ there's not anything that would work?"

"I've got something," Rena suggested. "It's called 'put down the cheeseburger, you farking lard roll.' Just stop eating, and you'll get thin. It worked for me."

Fox looked back at Rena with a displeased, dismissive frown. "You're naturally thin. Your metabolism is faster than a mosquito's. Also, crash diets don't work. Extreme food rationing was part of my military training, and all that happened there was that I felt like crap until I was allowed to eat again."

Scarlet rolled her eyes. "Ugh—don't remind me of that. That part of the training sucked."

"Still not as much as Hell Week, though," Fox added. "Anyway, I guess there's no way to make Uncle Peppy thin in three days. It looks like our best bet is to find him a flight suit that compresses his fat and makes him look a bit thinner."

With a shrug, Miyu suggested, "Eh, that might be enough. Those suits make everyone look fat, anyway."

"All right then—onto the next order of business," Fox continued, "We need to figure out how we're going to get Uncle Peppy into the base and into the Arwing. I'm pretty sure they're not going to just let us walk in and jump into the top secret experimental fighter. I've got a few ideas, but if anyone else has anything they'd like to suggest, let's hear it."

Miyu raised a finger and replied, "What if we did what we did with Wolf in his base? Pose as IT people and use that as a way to get into the base?"

"Lightning doesn't strike twice, as they say," said Fox. "Even though that idiom is a pile of crap, it might be true here. I think we'd be pushing our luck trying to make that strategy work a second time. We need something different for this."

Slippy offered his suggestion next. "This PMC has to take applications, right? What if we set up an appointment for the day of the sortie and met them at the office? Once we got in, one of us—preferably me—would use you guys' meetings with the staff as a diversion to enter the main base area. After I got in, I'd let Peppy in through a side entrance or something."

"It's something," Fox replied. "I don't know if it would work, but it's something, at least. How are we going to make sure he gets to fly the Arwing and not the original pilot—Onassi…you know what? I'm just going to call him 'Oni.'"

Slippy shifted in his seat to find a more comfortable position before he explained, "Sabotage, of course. Picture this: I sneak into the base with a fake uniform while you meet with the staff for your tryout. I sneak into Oni's personal quarters and wait until he gets back. Then, I take him out, leaving the Arwing wide open for Peppy, who'll be disguised as him."

Across the table from Slippy, Rena sneered. "That's a cute idea, but if anything goes wrong, it's farked immediately. Why do we need to steal the Arwing, anyway? Couldn't we just shoot it down? I thought the idea was to keep it from getting to East Fortuna. We're going to leak the plans to all the other major countries anyway, so it's not like destroying it is going to change anything."

Fox stroked his muzzle. "That does simplify things a bit. We could just drive a SAM truck into the desert, wait for the planes to arrive, and shoot them all down at once. The only problem with that is that we don't have a SAM, and because our finance and operations guy just killed himself, we're going to have a really hard time getting one on short notice. Also, I remember Krystal telling me that the Arwing was supposed to be almost impossible to hit with traditional missiles. Our best bet is to take it, unfortunately."

"Hey," Scarlet suggested, "We could try out the Landmaster. It's supposed to have anti-air capabilities, right?"

Fox nodded and pointed to her. "That's right, it does. I have no idea how it's supposed to work, though. I get the feeling 'anti-air' was supposed to mean more in terms of shooting down helicopters and cargo planes than fighters, though."

"This doesn't sound like it's going to work, boss," said Miyu.

Frustration laced Fox's face. Baring a canine, he reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone. "Give me a minute. I'm going to talk with Uncle Peppy before I give up on this." With that, he pressed the call button.

After a matter of seconds, Peppy's twangy voice reached Fox's ears. _"Hello? Who's this?"_

"Hey, Uncle Peppy. It's Fox."

" _Aw, hey sonny,"_ Peppy chortled. _"What'cha want this time? Need to me swing ya another deal?"_

"Not exactly," Fox uneasily replied. "Look, can you keep a secret?"

" _If it's something your daddy would want to know, I can't guarantee it; but if it's anything else, I'll keep it locked down tighter than your new mother-in-law's turtleneck. Whaddaya wanna tell me?"_

Fox cringed. _"Dammit! He actually proposed to Mystic!"_ Of course, since he did not want to air his grievances about that issue to his 'uncle,' he bit his tongue and instead said, "I might need your help…with a mission."

" _I'm listenin'."_

"My team and I are trying to steal a fighter that's being shipped to East Fortuna by direct flight. It looks like the only way to get it is to shoot down the two escort planes that are going to fly with it. I know I'm not good enough to get the job done. You're the only person I can think of who could do this."

" _Hmm,"_ Peppy mumbled. _"What kind of fighter is this that you're tryin' to steal?"_

"It's the first production model of the most advanced air superiority fighter ever. It's kind of a big deal."

On the other end of the line, Peppy went silent. Then, he asked, _"How many escorts were supposed to go with this thing? Two?"_

"That's right—two."

" _I'm in,"_ said Peppy. _"When do I need to meet up with ya, and where are we going?"_

Fox breathed a sigh of relief. "Meet me at the base as soon as you can. We'll leave for Titania as soon as I can set up hotel rooms for the rest of the team. You have your travel visa, right?"

" _Sure thing, sonny. I'm ready to roll."_

"Great. Thanks for the help, Uncle Peppy."

" _Yeah, no problem, sonny. See ya soon!"_

After ending the call and putting his phone back in his pocket, Fox pumped his fist and announced to the team, "Great—I got him to go along with us."

He hoped that his teammates would get onboard with his enthusiasm for the mission, but all he got from them were blank stares.

Finally, Miyu decided to shatter the disturbing silence. Sadly, her voice contained not the slightest trace of enthusiasm. "Yeah, that's great, boss. Wow, I can't believe how excited I am about this."

In spite of her tendency to support Fox in most of the things he did, Scarlet shook her head and murmured, "I don't think this is a good idea, Fox. We've been lucky so far. I get the feeling it's going to run out soon if we keep doing stuff like this. We almost didn't get out of Eladard alive, you know."

In spite of his external excitement, Fox felt similarly. Yet, he knew it would take months for Corneria or any other major world power to replicate an Arwing while East Fortuna received a fleet of them. He had to do something to stop the plane from reaching the rogue nation, even if his teammates disapproved.

Sighing, he looked at his teammates and said, "Peppy will be here soon. I'll talk things over with him and get Taiga to set us up with some hotel rooms in Titania. You can go now."

* * *

 _AUTHOR'S NOTE(S):_  


 _Just a heads up, there wasn't much proofreading on this chapter because I was trying to put this out when I should have been asleep. If you see any weird grammar, let me know so I can fix it.  
_


	37. The Setup

**Arc VII: Wings in the Wasteland**

 _Part 2: The Setup_

The repeated plane flights over the Eastern Ocean began to wear on Fox. Even during the peak of his team's activity in previous years, he did not remember traveling so far so often. After looking out his cargo plane's cockpit at the legions of fluffy maritime clouds below, he glanced to his left and looked at Uncle Peppy, who sat in the pilot's seat. It felt amazing to be the co-pilot, for once.

"So, what's your background in piloting, anyway?" Fox asked.

Peppy scratched his mustache, then answered with his characteristic twang. "My family was broke, and the Cornerian Army was offering college tuition money in exchange for enlisting and fighting in the Zoness War for Independence that had just started. I figured, 'why the hell not?' so I signed up for the Air Force. They found out my eyesight was pretty dang good, so they started training me to fly them fighter jets. I guess I was pretty good at it, 'cause they had me flying sorties after just a year." The aging hare sighed and then added, "It's just not the same anymore. After the war ended, all the fun stuff went away. The only jobs I got were trying out experimental planes and pushing papers. I retired from that crap as early as I could."

"I guess you're really excited about this job, then," Fox suggested.

"Heck yeah. I've been waiting for some aer-ial combat for twenty years. Retirement's been gettin' dull lately—especially since your daddy's been spending all his time with his pink girlfriend instead of meeting me at the Pancake House for breakfast. I swear, that woman is a spy or something. Insidious—that's the word for her."

"That's a big word for you," Fox replied.

"I ain't dumb, sonny. I know some words. I went to school for that."

Fox chuckled, but Uncle Peppy's shared disapproval of Mystic bothered him, mainly because it confirmed his unease. "What do you mean when you say that Mystic is a spy? Who's she spying for?"

"Hell, I dunno," Peppy grumbled. "'Luminati, maybe? There's just something not right about her. I've been trying to tell your daddy to drop her like a bad habit, but he won't listen. I'm afraid something bad's gonna happen if something don't change soon. I might have to get more involved in this—take care of her myself." He punched an open hand against his fist.

Fox sighed. "I don't think there's much you can do, especially since they're engaged now. He's clearly not going to change his mind."

"I wish you were wrong," Peppy whispered. "I guess I'm gonna have to find some new friends since he won't have time to see me anymore."

"Oh, don't be like that. He'll still see you from time to time. He's not _that_ cold."

"Yeah, maybe; but it just won't be the same," Peppy replied, shaking his head.

Lacking a response, Fox went silent before he looked out of the cockpit again. This time, he noticed that the ocean below had turned to desert. "Looks like we're over Titania now. We've still got about 45 minutes until we land, though."

"This might be a good time to brief the rest of the team on what we're gonna do after we land," Peppy suggested. "I can set the plane for autopilot while we talk. I'm 90% sure it's safe to do that."

"Only 90%? What about the other 10?"

"I dunno. Rogue nuclear missile test? Titanian Air Force thinks we're from East Fortuna? Giant tornado comes outta nowhere and kills us all? It's pretty windy up here, ya know."

Fox replied with a dismissive hand wave. "Come on—let's go over the mission with the rest of the team."

He unbuckled his seatbelt and opened the cabin door while Peppy set the plane's autopilot. Inside the crew area, his team plus Lucas sat on the two crew benches built into the sides of the airplane's frame. Scarlet and Miyu occupied the left bench, while Rena and Lucas sat on the one opposite them, with Slippy on the back edge away from everyone else. Fox looked at Scarlet in particular due to her unusual fur color. For safety purposes, she had chosen to wear the colors of a husky dog. Instead of her normal catsuit, she wore a snug-fitting black jacket and beige cargo pants. Fox figured that the outfit alone would have been enough to make her unrecognizable.

As soon as the team noticed Fox, he addressed them. "We're going to be landing soon, so I figured we'd better go over what's going to happen after that."

Immediately after he finished his sentence, Peppy emerged from the cockpit and stood next to him.

Fox continued, "Thanks to Rena's work, we managed to dig up a bit more intel on Affirmed Security's facilities. That doesn't mean this is going to be easy, though. Here's the plan: I, Scarlet—i.e. 'Mila', and Miyu have set up orientation meetings for the day of the Arwing's flight. We'll all be using fake names and bogus resumes. After all, we don't actually _want_ to get hired—we're just trying to run a diversion for Slippy."

He paused for thought before he added, "Speaking of Slippy, he'll disguise himself as one of Affirmed's contractors with an outfit that Taiga was nice enough to help put together. The same goes for you, Peppy."

Peppy nodded. "I'm sure it's not going to be _that_ easy."

"No, it won't," Fox replied. "Slippy's plan is to get into the facility and then find an auxiliary entrance where he'll let you in. After that point, we need you to impersonate the Arwing flight leader until you're in the fighter itself. Thankfully, Rena and I managed to find some voice files of the flight leader. I really hope you're up for this."

In return, Peppy looked at Fox warily. "What does this guy sound like?"

"He sounds like the definition of the word 'posh.' Huge vocabulary, antiquated terminology, and a _heavy_ Northern Macbeth accent. I know—I'm not exactly optimistic about this, either. Let's hope that those 'words' you know pay off here."

"Oh, indeed," Peppy replied, copping a thick and exceedingly forced accent. Somehow, he managed to curl part of his mustache in concert with his words.

Fox bit his lip. "Not great, but it'll have to do. Anyway, that's only the first part of the plan. After Slippy lets Peppy in, he'll sneak into the crew quarters and find the flight leader. I'll leave what happens next up to Slippy."

The amphibian nodded and responded with a thumbs up.

"Meanwhile," Fox continued, "Rena will stay in the team's van that's in the lower cargo hold right now. On the day of the flight, we'll park it near the base and use it as an electronic command center. It looks like the Arwing is going to be flying without any guns or missiles, but there's still an opening for us."

Leaning forward, Miyu grimaced. Scarlet looked almost as downcast as she did. "How is Peppy supposed to deal with the escort planes if the Arwing isn't going to have any weapons?" Miyu asked.

Fox raised his index finger, then explained, "It's not going to fly _completely_ unarmed. The Arwing's experimental weapons are too advanced to be removed for shipping. East Fortuna doesn't want their mercenary contractors digging through it, either. The plane is fitted with an experimental combat laser, but that feature is under an electronic lock. I'm not sure how advanced the security on that lock is going to be. Rena's job is to break it and arm the weapon using a remote transmitter that Peppy will plug into the Arwing's console when he gets into the cockpit. Once that feature is unlocked, Peppy will use the laser to shoot down the escorts; and the Arwing will be ours."

The team stared at him in mixed fear and anticipation. To most of them, Fox's plan sounded workable, but overwhelmingly prone to failure if the slightest detail was off. For five seconds, no one said a word. Then, Scarlet looked at Fox and said, "Small problem: what are we going to do with the Arwing after Peppy shoots down the escorts?"

Fox blushed. Admittedly, he had not given much thought to that. "Uh, dammit. That's a good point. I'll think of something. Maybe I can get the Cornerian Army to send out a tanker plane so we can refuel over the Eastern Ocean between Titania and Fortuna. I know the Cornerian Navy has some carriers patrolling that same area, too. I don't think it's going to be a problem."

After no one else posed a question or made a comment, Lucas spoke up for the first time. "Is there anything I can do to help?"

Scratching his muzzle, Fox pondered his options before he replied, "If you're not going to distract her, you can stay with Rena. Or, you could do something else. I'm going to leave that up to you. What are you good at, anyway? What did you do in Onyx?"

"I was their information gatherer. A spy, if you will. I'm good at keeping quiet."

Fox chuckled. "Right. I almost forgot you were here. The readers probably did, too."

The black and blue jackal waved to an unseen someone. "Hi, everybody."

"Ahem—back to the real world," Fox huffed. "I'm going to let you decide what you do to help with this mission." He narrowed his eyes before adding, "Don't screw this up."

A nod sufficed as Lucas's answer.

"As you were, then. We'll be landing in about a half hour. After that, we'll take the van to the town of Frostdune, where I've booked some hotel rooms for us."

* * *

 _-_ § _-_

* * *

The road leading up to Affirmed Security's desert base was as desolate and sparse as the bleak stretch of pavement that linked the local airport to the remote hamlet of Frostdune. While at the wheel of his team's van, Fox looked to the side of the road in time to see a weathered sign, its green paint peeling off and particles of rust creeping onto some of its white lettering. It read "Venom – 15 miles. Road ends."

Bordering the two lane road that seemed to lack curves entirely were legions upon legions of hardy cacti, boulders, and tumbleweeds, all spread out amongst the ocean of sand that stretched as far as the eye could see. Yet, because of Frostdune's northerly latitude, the temperature struggled to break sixty degrees Fahrenheit. His van's thermometer read 55. He could only assume how cold the temperature at night would be.

This place could have been Hell, for all Fox cared. Blisteringly hot in the summer and an icebox in the winter with crippling winds capable of flattening any poorly built or worn-down structures, the deserts of Northern Titania pushed the survival capabilities of the native flora and fauna to the limit. The town of Frostdune passed as the northernmost municipality in Titania and the last stop before all roads turned to sand at the razor-wire border fence separating the inhospitable wasteland of Venom from the civilized world. Considering that Affirmed's base was located only ten miles from the border, Fox figured that he may as well have already entered Venom and left the comforts of the rest of the world behind.

After ten minutes of driving, a sprawling military base appeared in the distance. Fox felt his pulse rising. He assumed that his teammates and Peppy did as well. Despite having a semi-concrete plan of action, he knew that any number of things could go wrong and doom the mission to failure. Then again, high-risk objectives had previously landed him a considerable fortune and the spot as the Cornerian Army's go-to mercenary group.

Nearing the base, he slowed down and pulled into a small parking lot in front of the complex's main entrance. Likely due to the fact that many of the PMC's staff lived on-site, few cars sat in the parking lot. The lack of activity outside the base only served to make the team even more nervous.

Fox pulled into a parking space as far from the base as possible. Then, he looked over his shoulder at Slippy, Scarlet, Lucas, Rena, and Miyu while Peppy sat in the shotgun seat next to him. "It's go time, team. Try to stay calm. Miyu and Scarlet—I mean, Mila—you've got it the easiest here. Slippy—we're leaving a lot up to you. Make us proud, okay?"

Slippy—dressed in a beige military uniform designed to look like the ones used by Affirmed Security—grinned and nodded in response.

Taking a deep breath, Fox stared at Rena in the back row of seats and said, "Rena, stay with the van and run communications while we wait for Peppy to plug your adapter into the fighter's computer."

"Got it, Senpai."

Opening his door and turning off the engine, Fox stepped out of the van and set foot on the asphalt outside. The cool wind breezed through his jacket while eddies of dust swirled in the desert nearby. He took in the bleak scenery for a moment, then started walking towards the base with the rest of the team in tow. As he neared the door, Peppy broke off from the group and headed towards the base's east perimeter, where Rena had previously determined the location of a side door close to the aircraft hangars. Lucas followed his lead a moment later.

While the jackal remained within earshot, Fox turned towards him and asked, "What are you doing?"

"Covering your tracks," Lucas replied. "I'll see you when we're done here, because you won't see me while I'm working." With that, he broke away from the group and followed Peppy; although he took a different line towards the base. Fox watched as he neared the fifteen-foot-tall barbed wire fence between the base's two main concrete buildings. He glanced at the main entry door for a moment before he looked back at Lucas.

Only to see absolutely nothing.

Shaking his head, Fox approached the darkened glass entry doors that marked the base's main entrance and lobby. Before he reached for one of the door handles, he looked at Miyu, Slippy, and Mila—Scarlet's canine persona—and told them, "Mila, Miyu—Remember your aliases. We can't afford to give away our actual identities. All we have to do is stall until Peppy gets into the Arwing. If you can, try to distract the guy(s) inside so Slippy can get through to the main part of the base without anyone questioning him."

"I've got you covered, Foxie," Mila replied with a wink and a thumbs up.

"Okay, then," Fox chuckled. Even after spending several days with his girlfriend's alter ego, he still had not managed to get used to her new fur color, slight behavioral differences, and her terrible, forced West Fortunan accent.

The three—with Slippy trailing behind—stopped in front of the main doors. This was it. Fox glanced at his digital wrist readout, which read '1229'—one minute before the group's scheduled interviews.

"Ladies first," he grinned, opening the door for Miyu and Mila. After they had entered, Fox stepped inside and held the door halfway open for Slippy. The instant the amphibian set foot inside the building, he crept into the nearest corner and tried to look as inconspicuous as possible. While he did have a convincing set of fatigues that matched those worn by Affirmed's personnel, he knew that he needed to use extreme caution in order to gain access to the base's main area.

Fox glanced at Slippy for a moment, then examined the base's entry area. It resembled a waiting room of sorts, with a cluttered desk in the back left part of the room, ten metal chairs near the entry door, and a solitary window on the wall above the desk. A pair of security cameras hung from the ceiling in conspicuous spots as a way of making it clear to any ne'er-do-wells that they would be spotted and apprehended if they tried anything. All the while, old-fashioned country music blared from a small, low-fidelity AM radio on a shelf mounted to the wall near the center of the room.

Seconds after the group entered the building, the man seated at the desk stood up and asked, "Can I help you?"

When the guard stood up, Fox noted that he looked like a cross between a husky dog and a wolf. This gave Fox an idea. Without even knowing Fox's thoughts, Mila glanced at him with her peripheral vision and subtly nodded.

"Good afternoon," Fox replied to the guard. "We have interviews scheduled. Who do we talk to for those?"

The guard looked down at his desk and shuffled a few papers around until his eyes fixed themselves on one in particular. "Oh, that's right. Applicants. I should let you know that we're near maximum capacity right now, but our business has been growing over the last year and we might be expanding our operations soon. So, there's a good chance we won't be able to hire you now; but if you test well and are willing to wait a few months, we'll probably have something for you."

Fox put his hands on his hips and looked away from the guard. "Well," he replied, "I can't speak for the others here, but this isn't my only application. I've got other options open, if you know what I mean."

The guard seemed unimpressed. "Sure. We've got plenty of good soldiers already. I'm sure we can afford to miss out on just one." Ignoring Fox's bruised ego, he eyed the three and asked, "So, who's first?"

"I'll do it," said Mila, walking towards the desk. "Let's just get this over with. Interviews make me nervous."

"Yeah, they do that for everybody," the guard replied. "Come on—have a seat in front of the desk, and we'll go over your credentials."

Mila complied and sat down. She crossed both her arms and legs and stared at the guard as he took a seat opposite her and stared at his computer screen. "What's your name?" he asked.

"Lyudmila Tolstaya."

"Good. Let me pull that up now." In seconds, the fake dossier that Fox and his team had created appeared on his screen. "Hmm… So, you were with Anthracite Security for four years before you decided to leave and do freelance work. What's your motivation for coming here?"

"I missed the big jobs and high-tech gear that only the big PMC's get to use," Mila explained, trying to make her accent sound convincing. She shrugged, then added, "I was doing okay on my own, but it wasn't as exciting as when I was in Anthracite."

The guard nodded. "I get that. Okay, so apart from basic combat, what kind of skills do you have…"

While the canine on the other side of the desk posed his question, Mila reached for the zipper on her partially opened jacket and played with it. Her idea was to 'test the waters' and see if merely jangling the metal tab would break his concentration. When he began stuttering, Mila sighed and lowered the zipper by two inches, just enough to reveal some of her soft, white chest fur. She watched the guard's eyebrows rise in response.

" _Ooh, he's horny. This just got really easy,"_ Mila thought to herself.

She wasted no time in responding to the previous question. "I'm a bit of a mechanic. I worked on some of Anthracite's trucks, among other things…"

"Such as…?"

"I did some 'personal services' for the boss," Mila replied with a twinkle in her eye. "As you know, the mercenary business is dominated by men. When you need some love and you aren't interested in other men, your options are…" she paused, then grinned, "…limited. Playing with yourself isn't nearly as fun as having a love-hungry woman to play with. I'm sure you understand."

Wide-eyed yet still trying to maintain his composure, the canine guard thought, _"I could use some 'personal services' right now."_ He looked at Mila, then at the trio of soldiers waiting near the front entrance. He realized that he must have looked like a complete idiot to them.

To press the issue further, Mila arched her back and pushed out her breasts, which her military jacket had no hopes of disguising. Despite his best efforts, the guard's eyes zeroed in on the only logical spot. When he finally managed to avert his gaze, he realized that a faint stream of saliva had managed to spill out the side of his muzzle.

Wiping the trail of spit away, he placed both hands on his desk and angrily whispered, "Stop toying with me. You're not going to seduce me into giving you a job here—our protocols state that you have to prove yourself first!"

A soft smile creased Mila's lips. "My record speaks for itself, comrade. I was Anthracite's Employee of the Year for two years straight. You know how big Anthracite is, and you know how hard it was to win that award."

"You probably just slept with the right people," the canine grumbled, but not loudly enough for Fox, Miyu, and Slippy to hear.

"Say what you will, but it made a lot of people very happy," Mila replied. "If you hire me, I can assure you that the same thing will happen here. After all, you know what they say: happy employees are productive employees."

Trying but failing to compose himself, the guard shook his head and whispered, "Okay—here's the deal: I haven't gotten any tail in six months. Follow me into that room over there and do your thing; and I'll make sure you get hired." He pointed to a wooden door to the right of his desk. "But I'm warning you—you'd better be good at your _main_ job, or my ass is on the line. Got it?"

In response, Mila simply winked.

Wasting no time, the guard stood up and walked towards the door; but before he gripped the knob and turned it, he looked at Fox and Miyu and said, "Uh…sorry about this, but I'm going to need you to wait for another half hour or so. I hope that's not a problem."

Fox shrugged. "Whatever you have to do."

"Good." With that, the guard opened the door and led Mila into the undisclosed room. The instant the door clicked shut, Slippy emerged from the corner of the lobby and darted like a fat, green ninja towards another door on the same wall. In the blink of an eye, he threw the door open and sprinted through it.

After the door had closed on its own, Fox eyed the door that Mila and the guard had disappeared into. He leaned over and whispered into Miyu's ear. "What do you think is going on in there?"

"Knowing Scarlet, it could be anything," the lynx answered. "…Although I bet it's not fit for print."

Fox rolled his eyes and muttered, "As long as it helps with the mission."

* * *

 _-_ § _-_

* * *

On the other side of the door, Slippy found himself in a short hallway that ended in another wooden door. Unlike the first one, this one possessed a keypad and a facial recognition peripheral. Realizing that he had no immediate way through the door, he stopped and scratched his figured that his worst case scenario was to go back into the lobby and try to figure out another way into the heart of the base, but something prompted him to stay frozen in place and stare at the lock.

Then, suddenly, a small LED mounted to the bottom of the keypad flashed green. A quiet chirp and the unmistakable sound of a lock clicking open followed it. Slippy darted forward and grabbed the door lever. To his amazement, it opened for him.

On the other side of the door, a vast expanse of concrete stretched in front of him. The area was awash with activity, with containers, military vehicles, and Affirmed staff members zipping around the area. However, Slippy's mind remained preoccupied with something else: how had the door opened for him? He looked around for answers but saw nothing. Nevertheless, he knew better than to waste his incredible fortune. Peppy needed to be let in, and he had a way forward now.

Slippy stared across the concrete at a building on the opposite side of the compound. Its open front design identified it as an aircraft hangar. Inside, three fighters could be seen. One of them sported a war-tarnished red and white paint scheme, while another gray camouflage-painted aircraft looked far newer and more dangerous. However, in between the other two was the piece of equipment they had come for: the Arwing.

He struggled to remember ever seeing anything resembling the pinnacle of the Red Group's research and development. The experimental fighter took the definition of 'sleek' to new levels, with a pointed nose cone, spindly wings, and angled tail stabilizers that called to mind certain stealth fighters. He noticed two low-profile canards built into the plane's underside, which looked almost precariously thin. On that note, the plane itself looked borderline fragile. Having seen the schematics for the fighter, Slippy knew that it was more durable than it appeared to be, but he figured that even one indirect missile hit would decimate it. Clearly, it was designed for use by a highly skilled pilot.

After staring at the fighters for a moment, Slippy turned his attention back to the job at hand. He meandered across the central concrete assembly area, sticking close to the raised barbed wire fence that ran along the perimeter while heading towards one of the beige buildings where Affirmed's employees kept their personal quarters. In all fairness, Slippy had no idea if he was investigating the right building or not. His plan—however risky—involved asking someone else at the base where to find Flight Leader Onassimus.

Reaching the door leading into the crew quarters complex, he turned the handle and stepped inside. At the moment, the halls echoed with the sound of the overhead fluorescent cans and the faint reverberations coming from outside. However, he did hear one set of quiet footsteps nearby. For a brief moment, he stopped and looked at his uniform. He figured that it looked legitimate enough; although he would have to make sure to only speak with low-level staff members since the higher-ups would see through his guise.

He slowly walked down the hallway, looking at the doors on each side of it in hopes of spotting anything that would lead him towards the flight leader. To his dismay, the only accoutrements on any of the doors were rudimentary number signs. Not seeing a clear path forward, he stopped in the middle of the hallway.

Only for someone to call his name.

"Slippy? Is that you?"

Slippy's blood froze. Well, technically, he was cold blooded and wandering around in a less-than-warm environment, so his blood was already cold…but you get the idea. It's a figure of speech, okay? Anyway, he froze in place with his eyes practically bulging out of his skull. He turned around, his legs stiff as a pair of boards. When he had rotated to face the mysterious source of the voice, he found himself staring at a slender lemur with piercing light yellow eyes. He wore an olive drab flight suit.

"A…Algy?" Slippy croaked.

"I knew it was you!" the lemur chuckled, jogging up to Slippy and clapping his shoulder. "When you did join up here? I hadn't seen you yet!"

"Oh, uh, I'm new here," Slippy nervously replied, trying to maintain eye contact but failing. "Still learning the ropes, you know?"

Algy smiled. "Of course. It takes a little while to get set up at a new place. I'm a bit surprised that you'd sign up to work at Affirmed, though. It gets pretty cold up here sometimes. People like you usually don't last long."

"Wow, thanks," Slippy grumbled. "Now I'm really going to have to prove you wrong."

"I hope you do, buddy. I really do. So, what've you been up to since Wolf kicked you out of Anthracite?"

"I don't want to talk about it," said Slippy. "What have _you_ been up to?"

Pointing to his flight suit, Algy answered, "I've been flying sorties for the aircraft division. It gets a bit boring sometimes, but every once in a while, something awesome happens—like today."

"Oh yeah? What happens today?"

"Oh—you wouldn't believe it. I get to fly as an escort for Otto Onassimus to help deliver a super-secret jet fighter to East Fortuna. I gotta tell you, that plane is beautiful. I'm a bit jealous that I couldn't fly her myself, but then again, it _is_ Otto's last sortie. He's going to retire after this, so I guess he might as well go out with a bang."

At this point, Slippy decided to hijack the conversation. "Speaking of Otto, where can I find him? I need to talk to him about something."

Algy paused for thought and then answered, "He went to meet with Commander Verita a few minutes ago, but he'll be back here in a few minutes to eat his lunch. His room is the last one on the right, if you want to wait for him."

"Great. Thanks!"

"Yeah, no problem, buddy," Algy replied before turning away and heading for the exit door. Before he could reach it, however, it opened to reveal a blue avian who looked like a cross between a pheasant and a raptor. Like Algy, he wore an olive drab flight suit, although his was covered in oil stains with an unsightly blob of dried blood on its shoulder.

"Hey asshat!" the avian shouted, "Hurry up and help me with my bird! Something's wrong with the thrust vectoring!"

In response, Algy merely sighed and shook his head. Ignoring the brazen bird, he turned around and told Slippy, "I gotta deal with Falco's stupid engine nozzles that are too complicated for his microscopic brain, so I'll talk to you later. How about we go out for a round of beers after I get back from East Fortuna?"

"Uh, sure," Slippy mumbled, unsure of whether Algy knew that he hated the taste of alcohol.

Seconds later, the lemur exited the building and left Slippy alone in the hallway. He felt the subconscious need to pump his fists in the air, but he realized that at least one security camera was trained on him and decided to play it cool. After taking a cursory look around the hallway to make sure that no one else was around, he walked towards the last door on the right and gripped the knob. It turned, and he walked into Otto Onassimus's personal quarters.

As soon as he walked through the door, he turned around and locked it. Then, he took a few moments to observe his surroundings. The room was the same size as a college dorm, although it only possessed one bed. Apart from a sink, a toilet, and a shower, it lacked amenities. A solitary table sat in the middle of the concrete floor, and on the table rested a large, leafy salad sprinkled with honey mustard dressing. A fork lay wedged in between the sheets of lettuce, suggesting that Otto had been forced to abandon his lunch to take care of other business. This also meant that he would likely return soon.

Slippy grimaced as he reached into his jacket and pulled out a white packet filled with the special, fast acting substance that James Pond used in his spy pen. Being careful not to get any on his fingers, Slippy opened the package and drizzled the poison onto the salad. Then, he located a nearby trash bag which he tossed the empty packet into before he darted out of the room and set foot in the hallway once again.

" _Steps 1 and 2 done,"_ he thought. _"Now for Step 3."_

He walked through the exit door at the end of the hallway and stepped into the cool outdoor air once again. He looked to his left, where he saw a metal exit door built into a reinforced portion of the perimeter fence. From looking at blueprints of the base before the mission, he knew to let Peppy in through that door. He walked towards it, but as his feet shuffled across the concrete, he thought about Algy and realized that if the mission went according to plan, he would be dead within an hour. In recollection, the lemur was one of Slippy's only friends during his tenure with Anthracite Security. Grief gripped him at the thought of Peppy shredding his fighter plane to pieces, but at the same time, he had to admit that he liked and respected Fox more than he did Algy.

" _I've got a job to do here. Sorry, Algy."_

Shaking his head, Slippy neared a part of the perimeter fence that featured a concrete-framed door. Just above the push-strip that opened it, a red and white sign read "EMERGENCY EXIT ONLY – ALARM WILL SOUND."

He stopped in front of the door and stared at it for a moment. Then, an idea occurred to him. Reaching into his coat pocket, he extracted a set of needle-nose pliers with a cutting blade between the two teeth. He then located the wire connected to the alarm and snipped it in half. He feared that the alarm would trip in response to the lack of communication with the door itself, but to his relief, silence pervaded the air.

Wiping the metaphorical sweat off his brow, he pushed the door open. On the other side stood Peppy, dressed for the occasion with his flight suit and curly mustache. Without a word, Slippy motioned for him to enter the base.

"Okay Peppy," he whispered, pointing towards the distant aircraft hangar, "The fighters are over there. Camp out behind this building for about twenty minutes before you head for the Arwing. Oh—and don't forget your accent."

"Indubitably. I shan't let you down," Peppy replied, curling his mustache for effect before he snapped back into his normal voice. "Dangnabbit, man—who talks like that? This flight leader guy must have a carrot stuck up his keister."

Slippy chuckled. "Just stay in character, okay? Oh, by the way, the other pilots are named Algy and Falco. Algy is the lemur, and Falco…well, you'll know him when you see him." He then walked back towards the emergency exit, prompting Peppy to turn around.

"Hey—where you going?"

"Back to the van. My work here is done," Slippy replied. Seconds later, he walked through the door and out of the base.

With a sigh, Peppy shook his head and wandered towards the backside of the crew quarters. Figuring that no one would see him, he pulled a fat cigar out of his flightsuit and lit it.


	38. Grand Theft Airplane

**Arc VII: Wings in the Wasteland**

 _Part 3: Grand Theft Airplane_

After twenty of the most tedious minutes in his lifetime, Peppy crossed the concrete expanse between the crew quarters and the hangar. As he drew closer to the building, he took note of the three fighters to see what he would be dealing with once he left the ground. He identified the older red and white fighter as an M-13 Fruit Bat—a venerable interceptor known for its prodigious speed but relatively poor maneuverability. He recalled having shot down more M-13's than he could remember during his active duty days, so that particular fighter instilled little to no fear into him. However, the gray fighter on the other side of the central Arwing caused him to raise an eyebrow.

" _Son of a gun—is that an Ru-73? I didn't know they were real."_

The fighter in question looked menacing, to say the least. Despite its fairly conventional design, the interceptor's raked wings, sleek, arcing fuselage, and oversized vertical tailfins implied a deadly airborne threat. The nose cone in particular attracted Peppy's attention. Innumerable scratches and etchings lined its metal surface. When Peppy looked more closely, he realized that the etchings were tally marks. The sheer number of them reached all the way from the tip of the nose cone to the front of the cockpit; but they did not extend beyond that. Instead, it appeared that the pilot had given up on trying to document his kills and instead etched a giant infinity symbol overtop of the existing hash marks.

" _Well, now I know which one I need to shoot down first."_

After examining the Ru-73, he turned his attention to the Arwing. Compared to the other aircraft, it looked more like something out of a sci-fi film than something approved by a board of directors. The design of the experimental fighter included a shorter-than-normal fuselage with a pointy nose. Two small, slanted tailfins poked out from the back of the fuselage, although the craft's oversized, sweeping wings dwarfed them. The sheer number of components built into said wings suggested a level of variable geometry not previously seen in the world of military aviation. To top it off, the fighter's engines looked to be the largest possible powerplants that the Red Group could have hoped to cram into the small fuselage.

The Arwing looked anything but stealthy, but then again, stealth was not the idea. Sheer air superiority was. As previous documents suggested, the plane's weapon racks lacked armaments. In fact, no weapons stood out at all—not even the prototype laser cannon that was supposedly present somewhere.

" _That fancy laser thingy had better be in there, or I'm screwed,"_ Peppy thought.

Having looked at the fighters, Peppy ambled towards the two crewmen—Algy and Falco—as they tinkered with the engine nozzles on the back of the Ru-73.

"I think that fixed the problem," said Algy.

"It'd better have fixed the problem, jackass. I've gotta have _all_ my bird's parts working if something screwy happens out there."

Algy crossed his arms and grumbled, "Oh yeah? Like what? The Cornerian Navy decides to patrol the treacherous ice sheets below our flight route and somehow manages to shoot us down? Get real, Falco. You don't need thrust vectoring for an escort mission. The only reason I helped you fix this is so you'd shut up about it, and also because I'm bored to death."

"Well, it didn't work, because I'm still talking," Falco retorted. "Thanks for fixing the problem, though."

"Yeah, whatever," Algy replied with a dismissive hand wave. "When Flight Leader Onassimus finishes the mission and retires, I'll be your CO and you won't be able to boss me around anymore. Put that in your pipe and smoke it, _jackass."_

"It's so unfair!" Falco lamented, "I'm the better pilot here. I've got over 120 kills, and management decides to promote the guy who doesn't know the difference between a barrel roll and an aileron roll. Un-freaking-believable."

Algy pointed an accusing finger at the avian. "You know why I was promoted? Because I'm professional, honest, and consistent. I bet you don't even know what those words mean. You know, I got my fighter legitimately. If I remember, you stole yours."

"Ha—whatever, man. My fighter is the most badass plane in the sky. When baddies see it, they friggin' shit their pants and turn around. All yours is good for is running away like a little bitch." Falco crossed his arms and tried to look as standoffish as possible.

"No, idiot—my plane was designed for intelligent people. See, here's how it works: there's a group of bogeys way up ahead. Your advanced radar is picking them up from long range, but they don't see you. So, you fire your missiles and wipe out all of the targets at once. Then, you turn around and fly away before the enemy can send reinforcements. Thanks to your plane's incredible speed, you make a clean break. How about that, hotshot?"

"Borrrring."

"It's not boring—it's how modern war is fought!"

"Not if I have anything to say about it."

Still irate, Algy argued, "You know what matters, Falco? Results. Results matter here—not your stupid 'war is supposed to be fun' crap."

Falco pointed to his fighter. "See that nose cone? That's results right there. I've got so many kills that I've lost track. What do you have, like, five?"

"Gah, you idiot!" Algy spat, clenching his fists. "The reason you have so many kills is because you don't follow orders and don't prioritize targets. All you do is look for anything that flies and then light it up. War isn't about going out and making a name for yourself—it's about being a team player. Teams with ball hogs don't win, no matter how good the players are."

"You're a ball hog," said Falco, a slight smirk creeping out of his beak. "You know who else is?"

Algy rolled his eyes. "Yeah, my mom. I've only heard that stupid gag fifty times from you before."

"Well, whatever," Falco grumbled, clearly deflated by his joke falling flat.

At that point, Peppy decided to introduce himself to the fray. He walked towards the two while moving closer to the Arwing. As he approached, Algy gave him a quick salute and said, "Flight Leader—you're right on time. We were just about to go over the final pre-flight checks. Let's make sure everything works."

"Most certainly, m'laddie," Peppy chortled. To his surprise, Algy bought his accent even though it sounded beyond comical to him.

* * *

 _-_ § _-_

* * *

" _Flight Leader Onassimus, you and your team are cleared for takeoff. Good luck out there."_

Speaking into his flight helmet's headset, Peppy replied, "Thank ye, good sir. The weather is first rate."

He took a quick glance around him. It almost seemed surreal. For the first time in years, he was in the cockpit of a real fighter jet with a real mission to accomplish. In spite of the Arwing's futuristic construction, the gauges, switches, sticks, and pedals all felt natural to him. He glanced at the concrete pad and the buildings bordering the long runway and wondered what Fox and the others were up to.

Then, he switched his radio channel to the shared band used by Algy and Falco. "All right, chaps. Let's do this!"

Without waiting for a response, he increased the engines' thrust and eased the plane from a standstill. Then, after waiting a few seconds to build momentum, he jammed the throttle yoke all the way forward. The plane responded with a frightening urgency that would have pinned him into the back of his seat in a normal plane; but for some reason, it seemed to have no effect on his body.

" _Must be them newfangled G-Diffusers, or whatever they're called."_

After achieving enough forward speed, he adjusted the flaps and ascended into the sky above the base. Within minutes, the Affirmed Security complex and the nearby town of Frostdune became nothing more than tiny dots in the proverbial rearview mirror. At 25,000 feet, Peppy set the Arwing at a steady cruising speed and watched as Algy and Falco pulled alongside him.

Algy's voice came through the radio. _"That's Venom down there. Get a good look at it while you can, 'cause it's not every day that you get to fly over it. The place is a hellhole. You know that's where Corneria used to send people on death row, right?"_

Peppy glanced out the side of the Arwing's canopy and looked at the desolate landscape. Somehow, it managed to be even more inhospitable than the area around the base. Bleak, faded brown buttes, mesas, canyons, and spike-like rock formations stretched as far as the eye could see. On the horizon to the north, smoke and ash from distant volcanoes filled the air. Water and greenery were nowhere to be seen.

Shaking his head, he commented, "I'd hate to end up there." He waited for either Algy or Falco to make a response, but when neither one did, he changed his radio channel to the one used by Rena back in the base's parking lot.

"Alright—I got the plane. What do I do next?"

" _Sweet,"_ Rena replied. Somehow, Peppy pictured her doing a fist pump while talking. _"Remember that digital card I gave you before we left the hotel? Get it out and plug it into your console. There should be a slot for it below the altimeter."_

"Okey-daisy, little lady," the hare chuckled. Reaching into his suit's chest pocket, he pulled out the tiny blue card and looked for the aforementioned slot. Thanks to the Arwing's remarkably tidy control suite, he found it in seconds. He slid the card in until it clicked, then asked Rena, "So, what's supposed to happen now?"

" _I'm going to try to hack your plane."_

"The hell?"

" _Relax—it's not going to fark anything up. Probably. Once I break the electronic lock, you should be able to use the laser and rip those idiots to shreds. Now, just keep it steady and don't panic if anything weird happens. I'm going to try using the default security code that came with the blueprint. Since the Arwing is a prototype, I'm assuming the East Fortunans don't expect anyone else to have the code. If that code doesn't work, I'm going to try a brute force attack. If I have to do that, things might get weird. Here goes…"_

An ominous silence filled the cockpit. Peppy saw nothing different happening, but he felt that something was about to change. Then, his heads-up display temporarily replaced his virtual diagnostics with a 'WEAPONS ARMED' message written in green. A subtle 'bong' noise from the internal computer confirmed the change. When the HUD returned to its normal status, Peppy noticed a targeting reticule that had not been present before.

" _Success!"_ Rena exulted. _"All right—it's up to you now. Waste them whenever you're ready."_

Peppy took a deep breath and collected himself. He kept his eyes focused straight ahead and avoided looking at either of the two planes flanking him.

Then, he engaged his air brakes and cut out the throttle. Falco and Algy's planes shot past him, leaving him with a perfect opportunity to strike. With his left foot pedal, he moved the Arwing into a quick yaw to line up his sights with the tail end of Falco's Ru-73. His finger reached for the trigger—conveniently built into the flight stick—but before he could center the targeting reticule, Falco banked off to the left and pulled into an absurdly tight curve that would have been impossible without his plane's thrust vectoring. Algy mirrored Falco's evasive maneuver and dove to the right, but his fighter lacked the maneuverability that Falco's did.

Having lost the element of surprise and the ability to take down the more dangerous opponent, Peppy banked to the right in pursuit of Algy's M-13. With one smooth chain of movements, he fell in behind the speedy fighter and pulled the trigger.

A cacophonous blast shattered the skies above Venom as a stream of red light rifled from underneath his cockpit. The laser ripped through Algy's fighter in the blink of an eye, reducing the plane to a cloud of smoldering particles. As small pieces of metal plinked off his cockpit, Peppy changed back to his original radio channel.

" _Holy shit! You killed Algy!"_ Falco roared. _"What the hell, Oni?!"_

For a moment, Peppy paused for thought, internally giggling at the pilot's surprise. A moment later, the Affirmed Security control tower operator joined the conversation. _"What just happened? Flight Leader, respond!"_

This time, Peppy decided to ditch his accent once and for all. "I got somethin' to tell y'all: I ain't your flight leader."

" _I_ knew _something was wrong with you! I thought you looked a little fat!"_ Falco fired back.

Amidst the verbal fray, another voice entered the airwaves. His tone suggested power, rank, and authority. _"This is Commander Verita. Pilot, whoever the hell you are, return to base and turn yourself in, or you will be shot down. I don't care how good you think you are—I will fire everything I've got at you if you don't turn that plane around in the next ten seconds, and there's no way in hell that you'll survive that."_

Peppy sighed. He toggled through the Arwing's weapons menu in hopes of finding any flares or electronic countermeasures, but to his dismay, only the tactical laser appeared in the menu. There would only be one way to avoid the coming onslaught of missiles—sheer piloting skill. Even then, however, he knew better than to believe that he could dodge an entire base's worth of heat-seeking, radar-guided missiles. But turning around was not an option, either. Turning around would lead to him dying or being imprisoned; and the Arwing would still end up in East Fortuna eventually.

" _The whole point of this mission was to keep this plane for getting there. I'm not going to let that happen."_

He took a deep breath, then spoke into his headset. "Bring it on."

On the other end of the line, Commander Verita cursed under his breath and growled, _"You asked for it. Fire the missiles! Lombardi—clear the area unless you want to get hit!"_

Peppy closed his eyes and waited to hear the inevitable 'MISSILE WARNING' alarm, but none came. Seconds later, the sound of explosions filtered through his headset. Commander Verita spoke up once again. This time, unadulterated rage laced his words. _"What the hell?! The missile launchers all blew up! It's complete chaos down here! Lombardi, do you copy?"_

" _Yeah, I copy,"_ Falco replied, more nonchalantly than he should have.

" _Listen to me, Falco—you shoot down that sonofabitch, and I'll buy out your contract with a T$5,000,000 severance. If that doesn't get results, I don't know what will. East Fortuna is going to rip me a new one if that plane gets away. Well, they're going to rip me a new one anyhow, but it's going to be a hell of a lot worse if someone else gets that plane."_

Falco's eyes went wide at the mention of 5,000,000 Titanian dollars. _"Um…hell yeah! I'll take care of it, dude…I mean, sir."_

" _Good. You have your orders. Shoot down that fighter. Verita, out."_

As Verita's voice disappeared from the airwaves, Peppy glanced at his radar screen and looked around the skies for any traces of Falco's Ru-73. He noticed it in the corner of the aforementioned screen, but saw nothing with his physical eyes.

" _Man, it sucks to be you right now,"_ Falco taunted over his headset. _"You might as well just fly in a straight line and let me put you out of your misery."_

A faint grin worked its way onto Peppy's face. "Sonny, I don't think you know who you're dealing with."

* * *

 _-_ § _-_

* * *

Back in the lobby, Fox and Miyu still sat by the entry door. The employment officer's desk remained empty—the way it had for the last thirty minutes. Fox thought that he heard sounds coming from the adjacent room that Lyudmila and the officer had disappeared into, but everything sounded so garbled that he could make none of it out.

Miyu rested her head on her hands and sighed. "What are we supposed to do now? It's been a half hour already. I heard the planes take off a few minutes ago, so doesn't that mean we should just leave?"

Fox nodded, a grim expression on his lips. "Normally I'd say yes, but Scarlet still hasn't come out of that room. I don't want to just leave her here."

"Argh," Miyu grumbled. "Do you think they're…?" She repeatedly shoved her left index finger through a circular opening created by the fingers on her right hand.

Rolling his eyes, Fox replied, "It wouldn't surprise me."

"Wouldn't that bother you, though?"

"A little bit, but I've come to expect it of her."

"Aren't you afraid that you might get something from her later?"

Fox shook his head. "Not really. She always carries protection. She's paranoid about getting pregnant."

"I can see why. She'd be the worst mom in the history of the planet," Miyu scowled.

Fox smiled. "You know, my dad claims that my mom was a lot like Scarlet when she was younger."

A second later, a string of explosions roiled the base. Tiny fragments of the ceiling rained down on Fox and Miyu's heads, and the ground under their feet shook. Both of them stood bolt upright. "What was that?" Fox demanded, although he knew that no one could answer him.

No sooner had he spoken than the door Slippy used to enter the base burst open. A tall Doberman sprinted into the lobby, wearing a black officer's uniform decorated with a bevy of pins and medals. Upon entering the room, he glared at Fox and Miyu, then looked at the abandoned desk near the back wall and snarled, "Where is Hutchinson?! What is going on here?!"

The anger radiating from the canine transformed Miyu into a living statue. "Uh…I…I think h...he went into that room over there."

The Doberman said nothing in response and bolted towards the nearby door. He gripped the knob, only to find that it was locked. Slamming the door with his fists, he screamed, "Open up in there and give me a SITREP!"

When three seconds passed without a response, the canine slammed the door with his shoulder and rammed it open. More dust fell from the already shaken ceiling tiles.

Fox and Miyu stared at the broken door for a moment until a bloodcurdling roar filled the air.

"AAAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHH! What are you doing, Hutchinson?!"

"Um, sir, I can explain everyth…"

"I'm sure you can! What is _she_ doing here?! Besides eating your d…"

"S…She's one of the applicants, s…sir."

"Applicants?!" the Doberman screamed, "I thought we made it clear that we were staffed to maximum capacity and that all applicants were supposed to know that ahead of time!" He paused, then had a horrifying realization. "Wait a minute…"

Fox's eyes went wide. _"Oh crap."_

As he feared, the canine officer darted out of the room, handgun at the ready. He stopped outside the door and aimed the weapon at Fox and Miyu. "What are you trying to accomplish here? Do you really think you can just steal a fighter jet like it was a carton of milk in the break room fridge?"

Miyu put her hands up and replied, "I don't know what you're talking about, sir. We were just here for an orientation."

"You lie!" the Doberman shouted. "You—foxy guy! I recognize you! You're the owner of that stupid group of patsies who claim to be independent mercs when you spend most of your time taking care of the Cornerian Army's wetwork! Where's the rest of your team?"

Fox swore through his teeth and attempted to stare a hole through the officer—figuratively speaking.

"Answer me, or you're dead meat."

"Fine," Fox relented. "They're outside the base." He tried to make his response as ambiguous as possible, but he quickly realized that it would not turn out the way he intended it to.

Still keeping his gun trained on Fox and Miyu, the officer turned his head towards the room with the broken door and ordered, "Hutchinson, grab your gun and follow me. Bring the hooker, too."

"Her name's Lyudmila."

"I don't care what her name is! Outside, now!" He returned his attention to Fox and Miyu and said, "Put your hands behind your heads and take me to the others, or I'll brain you right now."

Without words, Fox turned around and pushed through the front door. The cool air outside whisked through the door as he walked through it. As he trudged towards the parking lot where the team's van sat with Rena in the back seat, he cursed himself for not leaving the base when Miyu suggested doing so. Miyu walked alongside him; and although he could not see her, he knew that Mila was behind him along with Hutchinson and the officer.

" _Scarlet probably would have ditched me if her life was on the line. I should have been willing to do the same, because she probably wouldn't have cared."_

Ten feet behind him, the Doberman asked, "Are they in that white van?"

Fox stopped walking. He considered turning around and attacking the officer, even though he knew he would end up with at least three bullets embedded in him. The thought of betraying Rena—and likely Slippy, since he had exited the base after letting Peppy in—made him sick to his stomach. Yet, he knew that if anyone was capable of protecting herself, it was Rena. In all honesty, he hoped she saw him, the officer, and Hutchinson coming.

Sighing, Fox chose to lie. "No."

"Then where are they? Answer me!"

Fox cringed. He had no answer. In fact, his lack of a response did nothing except to confirm the officer's suspicions.

"All right, then. Light up that van!"

He and Hutchinson moved their fingers to their triggers and took aim. As they moved, the sound of a western-tinged guitar wafted through the airwaves. The noise broke the officer's concentration, causing him to look around for the source of the inexplicable sound. It was impossible for it to be coming from one of the base's loudspeakers, and it sounded far too clear to be broadcasting from a nearby smartphone.

He turned around and stared at the entrance to the base, which prompted Hutchinson to do the same. In front of the steps leading up to the doors was a wheelchair; and in the wheelchair was a fat, blue frog wearing tacky black sunglasses.

"What the hell? Identify yourself!"

The frog merely chuckled and moved his finger to a button on one of the wheelchair's arms. "Skidd Marx rides again, baby."

" _Suck my missile, punk."_

The officer's eyes threatened to bulge out of his skull as a small missile rocketed out of the arm mounted to the back of the wheelchair and made a beeline for his chest. He yelled and dove for the ground, but the missile tracked his movements with freakish precision. A mere second later, it made contact and exploded, sending a spray of blood and asphalt in all directions.

Wasting no time, Mila—whose pants seemed to have vanished during her visit to the base— turned and pummeled the stunned Hutchinson in the face. The canine let out a pitiable squeak and tried to return a punch, but she outmaneuvered him and swept his leg out from under him. As he fell to the ground, Mila grabbed him by the muzzle and shoved him down even harder, causing his head to hit the pavement before the rest of his body did. A disturbing crunching sound echoed across the parking lot. Hutchinson stayed down, his body unmoving.

Fox exhaled and looked around for signs of any other enemies in the area. Then, he addressed Miyu and Mila. "We've got to get out of here. Get in the van."

The two women darted for the van's side door. As they entered the vehicle, Skidd Marx rolled up to Fox in his wheelchair and rumbled, "Unlike you, Skidd Marx don't let his guard down."

Fox crossed his arms. "You know, if you're so good at this, why does Slippy let his guard down all the time?"

"I don't know who this 'Slippy' person is," Skidd replied. "From what you're telling me, he sounds like a klutz with no love life."

Burying his muzzle in his hand, Fox groaned, "You're special, you know that?"

"Extra special, just the way the ladies like it," Skidd chortled, laughing in such a way that his flabby gut jiggled. Without giving Fox a chance to respond, he wheeled his way over to the side of the van and climbed in.

Fox shook his head and mused, _"He's the strangest teammate I've ever had…but I don't think I could run the team without him now. Now that Peppy is in the air, we need to get back to the airport. I have a feeling we need to be ready to rescue him with the chopper if something goes wrong."_

* * *

 _AUTHOR'S NOTE(S):_  


 _I originally planned for the last two chapters to be lumped together, but 10,000 words seemed excessive for this story. This isn't_ The Oasis _, where that sort of thing was almost normal._

 _Boss Battle 4 is next!_


	39. Boss Battle 4

**Arc VII: Wings in the Wasteland**

BOSS BATTLE 4

Music: Eiforya (Ben Gold Remix) – Armin van Buuren & Andrew Rayel

Peppy had a feeling it would come to this somehow—one on one against a highly-skilled opponent flying one of the most technologically advanced fighters ever built. He looked down at his radar screen and watched the tiny red arrow that indicated Falco's Ru-73 pointing in his direction and accelerating towards him from behind. A split second later, a 'MISSILE ALERT' light flashed across his HUD, which went completely red.

Acting on reflexes and years of experience, he rolled the Arwing onto its side and pulled the control stick as far back as it would go, all while increasing the thrust from the engines. The missile streaked past him, just closely enough for him to hear the sound of it as it raced by.

" _I've gotta find a way to get on the offensive here, or I'll never have a chance."_

One laser blast would be enough to obliterate his enemy, but at the same time, he realized that the same was true for one of Falco's missiles. The energy reader on the Arwing's laser control display suggested that he still had 83% of the weapon's remaining power at his disposal. Peppy was bad with numbers and preferred using his cack-a-lator instead of performing mental arithmetic, but he figured that he had five more chances to destroy Falco's plane.

His train of thought came to an abrupt end when he glanced at his radar only to see a baleful red arrow pulling in behind him. A foreboding 'CAUTION' alert lit up on his HUD, warning him that Falco had a missile lock on him.

" _Dagnabit, I didn't sign up for this!"_

He yanked the flight stick to the right and guided the Arwing into a sideways roll, which he incorrectly termed a 'barrel roll.' The maneuver broke Falco's lock, but he knew he needed to act again to prevent the same thing from happening in the next few seconds. With that in mind, he banked hard to the right and dove towards the distant ground simultaneously. A lesser opponent would have broken his pursuit and looked for another way to take down his target, but Falco followed Peppy's movements, confident in his skills and the knowledge that he still had the advantage of being the pursuer. His fighter's thrust vectoring engines launched him into a gag-inducing turn and helped to keep his prey within striking distance.

Falco knew better than anyone else where his strengths and weaknesses lay as a pilot, and he knew to always play to his strengths. Specifically, he knew that he struggled when being chased or having to defend against attacks—although in all fairness, this was because most of his enemies never got far enough to have a chance at going on the offensive against him. On the other hand, when he had the ability to place the entirety of his focus on a single target, his quarry had next to no chance of surviving.

While rapidly dropping altitude, Peppy kept his eye on his radar screen. His enemy behind him showed no signs of breaking off. Mind racing, he sifted through his enormous mental filing cabinet filled with aerial maneuvers and tricks, some of which he had never attempted in actual combat. All the while, the faded gray rocks below grew closer. He halfway contemplated skimming the ground and trying to get the upper hand on his pursuer by luring him into an overwhelmingly risky low altitude pursuit through Venom's innumerable canyons and arches.

" _I'd better save that for last if nothin' else works,"_ he reasoned.

He pulled back hard on the flight stick and leveled out the Arwing. To his dismay, Falco matched him effortlessly, even managing to gain a target lock in the process.

Peppy's 'CAUTION' indicator blared again, forcing him to think fast or be eviscerated by one of Falco's missiles. He had an idea, but he feared that his ageing body—or even the Arwing—would be unable to handle it. Even in his prime, he rarely attempted the feat that now dominated the forefront of his mind.

Missile Warning.

Peppy cursed internally. He had no more time to deliberate. He clenched the flight stick with an iron grip, then forced it back as far as it would go while maxing out the Arwing's engine output. He braced himself for the crushing G-forces, but to his amazement, it felt no different than an ordinary banking maneuver. The Arwing banked upwards, but thanks to the engines' overwhelming thrust and directional nozzles, it gained almost no altitude at all. Instead, it effectively backflipped in midair while still moving forward.

The loss of speed created by the tactic caused both Falco and his missile to shoot past.

" _Holy shit, old man!"_ Falco shouted into his headset, _"I'll admit—I'm impressed now."_

Peppy chuckled, albeit almost breathlessly. "Ya like that, sonny?"

The absurd maneuver left Falco directly in Peppy's sights, although he knew the brash bird would bank off at any given moment. As he expected, Falco did just that. Manipulating the yaw controls to nudge the Arwing ever so slightly to the right, Peppy managed to place Falco's Ru-73 on the edge of his laser targeting reticle.

He pulled the trigger twice. Twin laser blasts rocked the Arwing and spat out from the fighter's underside. The second beam hit nothing but air, but the first clipped the tip of Falco's left wing. A trail of sparks and a small plume of black smoke erupted from the damaged spot, but it seemed to have no effect on anything other than the Ru-73's paint.

This time, instead of screaming at him through his headset or taunting his aggressor, Falco remained deathly silent. Peppy had the feeling the fight had reached a turning point. The first exchange of shots had been little more than a lighthearted—yet still lethal—game of cat and mouse, but after this, the jokes, the tricks, and the banter had little chance of continuing. At this point, Falco had no intention of toying with his prey anymore; and Peppy knew it. The bird pulled hard to the right, creating white contrails in the desert sky. Peppy flipped the Arwing onto its side and banked in pursuit, only for Falco to bank in the opposite direction in the blink of an eye and dive to the left.

Lamenting the fact that his reflexes had lost their edge with age, Peppy matched his opponent's maneuver while realizing that he had never faced off against anyone with Falco's reaction time before. As if to prove the point, a split second after diving, Falco pulled up to the right and contorted his fighter into an awkward upwards corkscrew that slowed his momentum and caused Peppy to shoot past him.

" _Dangnabit—I really shoulda seen that one comin.'"_

Once again, the grim 'CAUTION' warning appeared on his HUD. Unlike the last time, however, the MISSILE WARNING alert came almost immediately afterwards. For the first time since his formative years, he panicked. Acting on instinct, he banked right and yanked the flight stick back. Even over the sound of the Arwing's engines, he heard the roar of the missile as it buzzed his tailfins. He looked out of the canopy to his left, only to realize that two missiles had been fired at him from a range that normally would have guaranteed his demise.

As the missiles streaked off, Falco taunted his opponent. _"Don't think you're out of the woods yet, old man. Those aren't ordinary missiles. They're coming back. Good luck dodging_ those _."_

Confirming Falco's warning, the missiles curved to the right, entering a lazy loop leading back in the direction of the Arwing. The MISSILE WARNING icon disappeared from his HUD, but he knew that it would reappear in seconds.

Peppy increased the thrust from the Arwing's engines as the missiles finished their turn and made a beeline for his fighter. The missile warning light returned, accompanied by an earsplitting electronic shriek. As if that had not been enough, Falco kept a lock on his quarry. For the first time, he opened fire with the Ru-73's gatling gun. Two rounds plinked off the Arwing's wings. Peppy winced as he noticed the fighter's damage gauge light up and display "23%."

He had no time to deliberate about the bullets, however. In seconds, the two missiles finished circling around and closed in on him. Missile alert claxon screaming in his ears, Peppy "barrel rolled" to the left and banked into a tight downwards spiral. The missiles zeroed in on the spot in the air where the Arwing had been a mere second ago, only to collide with each other and explode harmlessly.

" _Dammit!"_ Falco shouted. _"Of all the times for that to happen, why_ now?!"

Peppy chortled, albeit in a way that made his increasing nervousness audible. "Hehe…better lucky than good, I say—although I _am_ pretty good."

" _You're full of crap, old man. You might have a few cool tricks up your sleeve, but you can't get away from me. Don't even think about giving up now, though. I want to earn this kill."_

Peppy thought about responding with another sarcastic remark, but the ease with which Falco stayed behind him caused beads of sweat to form on his forehead. To his dismay, he realized that his enemy was right. He had to do something drastic. During his heyday, enemies and allies alike knew him as an unhinged daredevil who would do anything to win, even if it seemed suicidal. At this moment, Peppy knew that he needed to uncork some of his old magic.

He gripped the flight stick, rolled the Arwing upside down, and pulled up. This sent him rocketing towards the ground while catching Falco off guard. Realizing that his enemy had lost his lock, Peppy considered pulling up and looping around, but he elected to stick with his original plan. Screaming towards the ground at over 1,100 miles per hour, he rolled the Arwing over again and aimed for a deep, snaking canyon below. The crevasse appeared to be the last remnant of a prehistoric river that ran through the Venom wastes during the planet's ice age.

Although he now followed at a distance, Falco kept his sights on Peppy. _"Oh ho ho—I see what you're doing there. You think you can shake me by flying through that canyon? I've got news for you, buddy: I've flown through that thing so many times that I could do it with my eyes closed!"_

Peppy bit his lip, but kept his sights on the canyon. At the last possible minute, he engaged the Arwing's flaps and dove into the rocky shaft. The canyon seemed like it had been designed for what it was now being used for. In terms of width and depth, it dwarfed anything like it on the Cornerian mainland. The dried-up riverbed at the bottom of the shaft looked to be over three hundred yards below him, and the canyon itself was wide enough to maneuver around in.

While keeping his throttle up and swerving through the canyon's twists and turns, he took a quick glance at his radar and watched Falco's red arrow appear behind him. The avian took an opportunity to dive into the shaft from above while carrying more speed than Peppy, an act that put him close behind the Arwing with a clear shot at him. Unlike last time, however, he refrained from using one of his last two missiles. Instead, he fired up the machine gun again and peppered the back of the Arwing with depleted uranium shells.

Peppy cursed and "barrel rolled" to the left, shaking Falco off for a moment. He had no time to consider his next move, however. Mere seconds ahead of him, a massive rock formation jutted out from the bottom of the canyon, splitting the shaft in two and providing only a needle-thin opening for his fighter to fit through. Anticipating that he would pull up, Falco slowed down and gained altitude.

To his surprise, Peppy did not pull up. He rolled the Arwing onto its side and sped towards the narrow opening. The fighter streaked through it, missing the rocks on both sides by mere meters. He looked at his radar and saw that Falco had fallen behind, clearly surprised by his maneuver.

His excitement lasted approximately two seconds before he looked up and realized that on the other side of the rocky opening was the entrance to a yawning cave. His reflexes compelled him to pull up, but he realized that he had no time to do so without smashing into the rocky formation above the cave opening.

" _Oh nuckin' futs,"_ he grumbled to himself.

He sped into the cave while frantically flicking through his headset's settings until he found the infrared vision option. With no visible light whatsoever radiating from the cave, the white outlines displayed on his visor functioned as his only hope of survival. The cavern was nearly as wide as the canyon that ran into it, but the number of stalactites and stalagmites inside unnerved him. He had a feeling that if he could have seen more than what his infrared visor showed him, he would have wished that his flight suit was a darker shade of brown.

Cutting the thrust to the Arwing's engines, he clutched the flight stick with white knuckles and gritted his teeth. In his determination, he failed to look at his radar.

" _Surprise, motherfucker!"_

In the span of a second, Peppy's 'CAUTION' and 'MISSILE WARNING' lights flashed red.

"Whoa!" he shouted into his headset. Paralyzed by fear amidst the darkness of the cave, his muscle memory took over and forced him into a barrel roll to the right. Falco's fifth missile all but scraped the underside of the Arwing before it smashed into the side of the cave with a stunning explosion.

As soon as he performed the right roll, he realized that the maneuver had put him on a collision course with a building-sized stalagmite on the right edge of the cave. He yelped and rolled to the left, but he knew it would not be enough. The rock grew large in his infrared visor. He banked the fighter onto its left side and pulled up, closing his eyes to avoid having to watch himself crash.

No crash came. By inches, he scraped past the stalagmite and beat a path deeper into the cave.

Incensed, Falco shouted, _"How the_ hell _do you keep doing that?! Is this is some kind of video game?!"_

Peppy gave no response.

As the two planes raced through the seemingly endless cave, he noticed traces of light appearing up ahead. At first, he hoped that it was the light from outside coming through an exit, but as he flew towards the source of illumination, it occurred to him that natural light was not red.

" _Aw shucks. This just got real bad."_

The red light grew brighter with every second. In moments, the source of the light revealed itself as a seething river of molten magma running along the floor of the cave. Despite being in a climate-controlled, pressurized cockpit, Peppy felt the heat rising through the air. Making matters even worse, he realized that the cave was shrinking in size. Up ahead, a small opening—just large enough for a fighter—stuck out as the only way forward. The gap would require him to skim the surface of the magma while not smashing his cockpit on the rocks at the top of the opening.

On top of his stress, he bit his lip at the realization that Falco could kill him with 100% certainty by firing his last missile in the increasingly-cramped space. Such an action would also kill Falco, but Peppy did not trust him not to shoot regardless of that fact. After all, the avian had been insane enough to follow him into the volcanic cave to begin with.

Sweat dripped down Peppy's brow as he aimed for the narrow opening. At that moment, the entire cavern shook. Stalactites shattered and fell from the ceiling behind the two fighters. He did not notice. All he saw was that in collusion with the earthquake, the magma was rising, threatening to block off his only exit.

He gunned the throttle and shot through the opening with volcanic flames licking at the Arwing's undercarriage. He focused his eyes on the fiery path ahead, but he silently hoped that Falco would crash and burn behind him. On the other side of the opening, he shot out into a large, conical chamber with no way out except up. Natural daylight streamed into the hole, mixing with the lake of magma below to create an eye-searing spectacle.

Engaging his air brakes and pulling up, he boosted skywards towards the harsh Lylatian sun. At the same time, the earth shook again, this time far more violently than before. Peppy realized what was coming.

With engines at their limits, Peppy and Falco shot out of the volcano as it erupted, spewing magma, volcanic ash, and black smoke into the air around them. In the chaos, Falco lost track of his target. Both pilots flew away from the erupting mountain in opposite directions.

Seconds later, Falco spoke up. His words dripped with frustration and the inability to believe that his target had managed to avoid five missiles, survive his machine gun, fly through a cave, and escape out of a volcanic cone with no significant damage.

" _I am sick of this stupid little game, old man. I've got one missile left, and I'm gonna make sure this one hits home, even if it kills me. Suck on this, you fat redneck sonofabitch."_

Peppy checked his radar for Falco's location, but saw nothing. He banked left in a slow loop until he saw his enemy's distant fighter turning around and heading straight towards him. He grinned. The constant running, the dodging, the incorrectly termed barrel rolling…he enjoyed none of those things. Well, truth be told, he _did_ enjoy barrel rolling. A 1,400-mile per hour game of chicken, though? He could live with that.

" _Challenge accepted."_

Pushing the throttle forwards, he aimed the Arwing's nose cone at Falco's speeding Ru-73 and took dead aim. The fighter's twin engines screamed behind him, propelling the warplane to supersonic speeds as he raced towards his opponent. Then, as the small flying speck that was Falco's plane became a larger speck, his HUD lit up with a final MISSILE WARNING. With a steely grip on the flight stick, he watched as Falco's last missile left the Ru-73's right wing and sped towards him. At the dizzying speed at which it traveled—in addition to the equally dizzying speed of Falco's plane, Peppy knew that dodging the missile was entirely out of the question.

But he had no plans to try that.

He narrowed his ageing eyes and closed his index finger around the trigger on the flight stick. When he felt the time was right, he pulled it twice. Two beams of red light shattered the skies above Venom with a thunderous 'crack.' The first beam struck the missile head on. The warhead exploded in mid-flight, effectively detonating in Falco's metaphorical face. If Peppy could have slowed time to a crawl, he would have seen Falco's plane burst into flames after taking damage from his own missile, but the chain of events moved so quickly that his mind barely registered them.

Milliseconds after the first laser blast destroyed the missile, the second beam shredded through Falco's nose cone. His plane all but exploded in midair. Shrapnel flew in all directions, leaving only a charred husk of a fuselage to speed past Peppy and the Arwing as he passed through the 'blast zone.' Seconds later, Falco shot out one final word before static took the place of his annoying voice.

" _FUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUCK…"_

Out of the side of his canopy, Peppy watched as a small parachute deployed.

As his breathing returned to normal, he broke into a chuckle that turned into a roaring elderly laugh as he realized that by downing Falco and Algy, he had broken the world record for most kills in a fighter jet. Grinning from ear to floppy ear, he reached forward and unclipped a small video camera that he had stuck in front of his avionics suite. He pressed the button to end the recording, then commented, "I am the greatest! Yee haw!" he pumped his fist in midair, only to have it smack against the top of the Arwing's canopy. In addition to that, he felt something pop in his back.

"Dagnabbit! That's gonna leave a mark!"

Unable to rub his back thanks to his restrictive safety harness, he grimaced and changed his radio frequency. "Hey sonny, do ya read me?"

Silence filled the airwaves before Fox replied. _"Peppy! Are you okay? What happened out there? Did you deal with the escorts?"_

The hare grinned. "All targets destroyed."

Fox let out a massive sigh of relief. _"Man, I am glad to hear that. I was afraid you might have gotten shot down."_

"Ha ha—there was never a doubt," Peppy replied. Since Fox had no way to see it, he widened his eyes in terror for a moment before he slipped back into his jovial, relaxed mood. "But really, sonny, I gotta tell ya something. I met my match today."

" _Come on, Uncle Peppy. You're the best pilot of all time!"_

He shook his head. "That's true, but this kid's better than me. I ain't never seen anything like him before. If it wasn't for him losin' his temper and me having my trademark good luck, I would've been scrap metal. You know how some people'll tell ya that a rabbit's foot gives you good luck? Well, I got two of them! Har har har!"

" _Real funny, Uncle Peppy,"_ said Fox. _"What happened to this other pilot, though? Is he dead?"_

Peppy looked out of his canopy. Amidst the falling aerial scrap, the solitary brown parachute greeted his eyes. "He ejected, so he's probably okay. You know what? I'm gonna talk to him."

" _Don't do anything stupid, Peppy. We need that Arwing."_

"Aw, it'll be fine," the hare assured him. "What? Are you really going to leave him out here in a place like this? I thought you were nicer than that."

Fox groaned. _"Ugh. You're right. We should probably help him. I just got back to the airport and got the chopper ready, so we can be out to you in a few minutes."_

"Great work, sonny. You're the best nephew I never had!"

" _Um, yeah… And you're the best fake uncle I could ever ask for. See you in a few minutes."_

With relative silence in the cockpit again, Peppy circled around. He kept his eyes on Falco's parachute until it hit the ground and spread out. He scanned the ground for a place to land, eventually noticing a large, flat area with dusty, cracked earth. It looked more than long enough to land a plane on. Lowering the landing gear, he touched down on the desert floor, sending plumes of red dust into the air behind him.

After slowing to a halt, he unbuckled his safety harness, opened the cockpit, and climbed out. To his dismay, he realized that he had no ladder. His overweight figure prevented him from climbing back in, forcing him to flop to the ground. Shaking the desert dust off his clothes, he flattened his hand above his eyes and looked for the parachute's landing site. After looking around for too long, he finally noticed it behind him and to his left, around two hundred feet away.

As he neared the parachute, he could make out Falco's figure, still strapped into his ejected pilot's seat. The avian slumped forward, but he looked uninjured—physically, at least. He held a beer bottle in his hand, and every few seconds, he took a swig of it. A piece of the Ru-73's nose cone rested next to the seat. Part of its carved infinity symbol was visible on it.

When Peppy stepped to within fifty feet of him, Falco raised his head and stared at him. "Oh, what do you want now? Shooting me down and wrecking my awesome plane wasn't enough for you? Are you just here to gloat? You know what, on second thought, do me a favor and keep coming closer. I've got a gun on me, and I'm really feeling like revenge right now."

"I ain't here to gloat, sonny," Peppy replied. "I've just got to say, you're the best pilot I've ever seen."

Falco rolled his eyes. "Oh, I'm sure you've seen _tons_ of pilots, you old fart."

"Dang right I have. 269, to be exact. Hehe—69."

Falco's eyes went wide. Waving his hands about, he shouted, "Whoa whoa whoa—what do you mean, 269? Is that how many people you've flown with, or…"

The reality dawned on him.

"Oh shit. That's your kill count. Wait a minute—I think I know who you are. You're…you're Douglas Hare!"

"Call me Peppy, son."

"Dude!" Falco exclaimed, "You're like, the reason I started flying! I wasn't alive during the Zoness Independence War, but my parents told me all the stories about you! You were like a friggin' one man aerial army! I'm so sorry I called you all those names. Can I, uh, get your autograph?"

Peppy blushed. "Well, I'd give you one, but I ain't got a pen. Tell you what: I'll get you an autograph after we get you out of here. Sound good?"

"You bet it does. But how are you going to get me out of here? That Arwing only has one seat."

The answer to Falco's question came into view a moment later. Far in the distance, Foxfire Enterprises' heavy chopper hovered towards him and Peppy, its rotors churning up waves of dust as it neared them. As the sound of the blades shook the airwaves, Peppy turned to Falco and added, "I've got to tell you something, sonny. You're the future. You're better than I ever was. But you've gotta get your head screwed on straight. If you hadn't blown up and charged me there at the end, I'd be dead right now."

Falco unclipped himself from his pilot's seat and stood up. "I get pissed off easily, okay?"

"You're gonna want to change that—trust me," Peppy replied.

"Yeah, you're right…dammit."

As the helicopter touched down on the Venomian flatlands, Falco looked around at the wreckage of his fighter before he stared at the Arwing idling nearby. The futuristic warplane looked like something he would have visualized as a child. Every piece of the plane seemed to be begging for him to strap in and rip entire battalions of enemy fighters to shreds. Part of him wondered if he would ever have a chance to use it. Perhaps he could prove his worth to the plane's new unrightful owner.

His thoughts returned to the moment at hand when the helicopter rotors wound down and the side door opened to reveal a red fox wearing a set of dark gray military fatigues. Even from a short distance, something about his countenance and his charisma appealed to him. The vulpine locked eyes with him, and at that moment, a gut feeling metastasized as a thought in his mind.

" _I think I'm going to like this guy."_

* * *

 _AUTHOR'S NOTE(S):_

 _End of Arc VII. Finally. Now that this segment of the story is over, I'm hoping that I'll be more motivated to move forward. So, now you know where Falco's been all this time!_

 _Where will the team travel next? Find out in Arc VIII!_


	40. SOS

**Arc VIII: Gratuitous Fanservice Island**

 _Part 1: S.O.S._

In the bowels of a Cornerian aircraft carrier christened the _CMS Frederick Akita,_ Fox pored over the video footage recorded by Peppy during his dogfight with Falco over Venom. Peppy and Falco hovered over Fox, eying his computer screen. After the playback ended, Fox shook his head, turned around, and looked at Peppy.

"You flew through a cave and shot out of a volcano? Are you completely nuts?"

Peppy snickered. "Maybe. But this guy here was dumb enough to follow me in!" He nudged Falco, soliciting a grin from him.

Placing his hands on his hips, Falco asked Fox, "So, am I in or what?"

Fox groaned and scratched his head. "Well…you really are an amazing fighter pilot, and I don't have one on my team… However, I'm not ready to make that decision yet. To put it bluntly, you seem like you could cause more trouble than you're worth. I've already got one teammate who could fly off the handle and murder half the team, one who seems to have identity issues, and another who might drop saving the world to do a nude photoshoot in Eladard.

"Excuse me?" said Falco, his eyes widening at the words 'nude photoshoot.'

"You haven't met Scarlet yet, have you?"

"I don't think so. Is she not here right now?"

Fox looked around the room and explained, "She was the husky with the horrible West Fortunan accent. It was part of a disguise for the last mission. I think she hit the showers to wash the fur paint out the instant we got on this boat."

"Ohhh…." Falco trailed off. "Yeah, she was hot."

Fox cleared his throat. "Back to what I was saying about you. I'm willing to give you a trial period, but you won't be paid until it's over, and that's only if I decide that you're worth keeping."

"C'mon, man," Falco grumbled. "You know you're not going to find a better pilot than me, like, ever."

"Maybe, but this team _does_ do things other than aerial combat. You got any other skills?"

The avian stroked the underside of his beak. "Well, I'm good at getting out of sticky situations, my vision is friggin' amazing and I've taken marksman training, but most importantly, I can kick your ass at _Call of the Battlefield."_

"Which ones? The good ones or the ones with the stupid jetpacks and double jumps?"

Falco dismissively waved his hand at Fox. "Dude. The OG _Current Warfare_ is the _only_ CoB game worth playing. If you don't agree, I'm not talking to you anymore."

"Well, I don't know about that," Fox replied, "But I'm sure we can agree that _CoB: Phantoms_ was the worst thing that ever came out of that series."

"I know, right? What a friggin' turd of a game. I can't believe I actually…"

Fox held up a hand, feeling a vibration in his pocket. "Hold up—this might be important." Pulling out his satellite phone, he looked at the screen and noticed the word "Restricted" where the incoming phone number normally would have been. He had a feeling that one of two particular Cornerian generals wanted to speak with him.

He swiped the screen and answered the call. "Fox here." He internally cringed, fearing that General O'Donoughue had uncovered something else that he had done illegally. To his relief, however, the caller revealed himself as the other major general.

" _Good afternoon, Fox,"_ said General Pepper. _"Before I go any farther, I'd like to thank you for leaking those blueprints for the tank and the fighter to our military. This development will help us maintain a strong upper hand against our enemies."_

"And I'd like to thank you for letting me refuel the Arwing on your carrier," Fox replied.

" _Think nothing of it, Fox. It's a pittance compared with what you've done for your country. Now though, let me go straight to the real reason I called you. One of our spy ships in international waters near Macbeth's exclusive economic zone intercepted a garbled distress signal from the vicinity of the remote Cerinian Islands. It was sent in Morse Code."_

Fox narrowed his eyes in confusion. "Morse Code? Who uses that these days?"

" _Someone without access to modern technology, evidently. The content of the message reads as follows: 'Send help. Islands under attack. Fyvve is unstoppable. SOS.'"_

"That's really…weird," Fox muttered. "Did you want me to look into that?"

" _Yes, indeed,"_ Pepper replied, _"I do not have the resources to send a squad to the Cerinian Islands at the moment. The only ships in the area are reconnaissance cruisers like the one that picked up the distress signal."_

Fox consulted an imaginary world map in his mind in an attempt to calculate the distance he would need to travel to reach the islands. "Well, General, we're southwest of Titania right now, and those islands are west of Macbeth. That's a long flight in my helicopter. We'd need to refuel along the way."

" _Think nothing of it. I will clear your helicopter registration with the crews of all Cornerian ships in the area. You can also keep the Arwing on the_ Akita's _flight deck while you complete the mission. The carrier's crew will keep an eye on it for you."_

"I appreciate that," said Fox, "But I've already got somebody who's going to fly it back to Corneria."

" _Even better,"_ Pepper replied. _"I would recommend traveling to the islands as soon as possible. This 'Fyvve' person…I may know something about him. I'll have my secretary do some research, and I'll get back to you if she finds anything. Until then, good luck, Fox. Pepper out!"_

With the phone call finished, Fox slid his phone back into his pocket and looked at Peppy and Falco.

"Hang on just a second," said Falco, pointing at him, "You're on a first name basis with _General freaking Pepper?_ How many asses did you have to smooch to get on that level?"

Fox grinned. "None. My dad used to be a colonel in the army, and he knew Pepper years before he became a general."

"Ah, nepotism then. Gotcha."

A groan left Fox's mouth. "Shut up. It is what it is. Anyway, in case you missed it, I've got a new job, and Pepper wants me to get to work immediately. You coming?"

"Do I get to fly the Arwing?"

"If you do well enough and I decide to keep you on my team, sure. Peppy's going to fly it back to Corneria as soon as the carrier crew gets it ready to go."

Falco curved the corner of his beak and grunted something indistinguishable while stomping in a circle. Then, he glared at Fox and asked, "Am I getting paid for this?"

Fox locked him with a fierce stare. "The answer to question #2 is the same as it is for #1. Do I make myself clear?"

"Yeah, sure. I get it," replied Falco. "To the crappy copter, then, I guess."

Fox rolled his eyes.

A moment later, the door at the back of the room opened. Fox's ears perked up at the sound before his bodacious red girlfriend stepped into the room, wearing a black catsuit with a tiger stripe design that hugged her sides.

The instant Falco laid eyes on her, his jaw dropped. The world seemed to slow to a crawl as she sauntered towards him, swinging her hips and giving him a suggestive wink. However, any ideas he may have had shattered into pieces when she walked up to Fox and slathered him with a sloppy, wet kiss that he awkwardly reciprocated.

"Rawr," Peppy chuckled.

Falco frowned and narrowed his eyes. "What a freaking tease. You just _had_ to make it obvious that Golden Boy over there is your boyfriend, huh?"

Scarlet grinned. "That's right, feathers."

Somewhat out of breath, Fox held up an index finger and asked Scarlet, "Can you please not do that in front of other people?"

"Aw…but I was in the mood for it," she whined.

Falco shook his head and crossed his arms. "Yeah—I'm gonna head to the crappy copter and wait while you two finish screwing each other down here."

Rolling his eyes, Fox replied, "Could you do me a favor and let the others know what's going on while you're on deck?"

"Sure. Whatever," Falco grumbled.

* * *

 _-_ § _-_

* * *

The crappy copter soared above the waves of Lylat's Eastern ocean—the planet's largest body of water. The ocean stood between Corneria and Macbeth; and between the two landmasses, precious few islands or suitable dwelling places existed. Recurrent storms and scorching heat made living in any such places difficult, and the sheer distance from any major country made things even worse.

Yet, one such location existed—the enigmatic Cerinian Islands.

While sitting in the helicopter's passenger seat next to Slippy, who piloted the craft, Fox mused on his team's upcoming objective. He had a feeling that this would be his only opportunity to visit the pristine islands in his lifetime; and as such, he wanted to make his short visit count. Little information existed on the Cerinian Islands except that the people indigenous to them spurned technology for the most part and rejected outsiders as a matter of principle. In his entire lifetime, he had only met two people who had visited the islands and returned, although one of the two claimed that the islands were, as he described them, 'the closest thing to heaven on earth.'

Fox rather liked the sound of that, although a few more pressing issues diverted his attention. Namely, the cryptic distress signal that brought him to the island to begin with. In addition, he had heard that the locals viewed anyone apart from themselves through a lens of suspicion equivalent to what he would receive if he had been branded with the 'scarlet letter' of a murderer.

He liked the sound of that less, although he figured that things could have been worse.

Far in the distance, the faint outline of the islands came into view through the chopper's front windows. Turning to his right, Slippy glanced at Fox and asked, "Are you sure there's going to be somewhere for us to land?"

Fox shrugged. "I'm sure you'll find a spot. They might not know we're coming, but they'll definitely be happy when we do. I'm guessing at least one person on those islands knows our language since the Cornerian Army could read their SOS. We should try to find him as soon as we land."

"Okay," Slippy replied, disinterestedly. "Say, do you even know what the people here look like? This place is so far out in the middle of nowhere. I thought they might be shark-people or turtles or something."

"Get this," said Fox, "As far as I know, they're all blue foxes." When Slippy raised an eyebrow, Fox chuckled and added, "Yeah, I have no idea how they ended up on an island in the middle of the ocean, either. Oh, and if Krystal is anything to go by, they might be telepathic, too."

"An island of color-challenged, psychic foxes," Slippy muttered under his breath. "This should be interesting. At least the weather's going to be great."

"Damn right it is! I can't wait to hit the beach and drink pina coladas until the whole island spins," an uncouth, accented voice called out from behind the two front seats.

Fox looked over his shoulder to find Falco standing less than two feet behind him with his arm resting on the top of his seat. Narrowing his eyes, Fox said, "You know, Falco, we have a job to do here. Focus on that first, okay? Also, the natives might have a thing against alcohol. A Cerinian friend of mine told me in a text that she left the islands because the people there were 'a bunch of prudes.'"

"Yeah, whatever, Captain Buzzkill," Falco sneered, swatting the air with his wing/hand/thingymabobber. "If I remember, I took this job so I could fly the Arwing, not ride around in this bucket of bolts with that yellow _thing_ that keeps giving me the evil eye every five seconds."

"You know, if you don't like it, get out. No really—if you don't want to be part of this, just open the side door and jump out. A fishing boat might find you eventually."

"Oh give me a break," Falco scoffed, "I was just trying to lighten the mood, that's all. I guess that's asking too much around here. Hey, you still took it better than that yellow freak…OOF!"

A metal boot suddenly hit Falco in the most sensitive of all areas. Clutching his wounded manhood, he dropped to the floor and curled into a fetal position, which allowed his yellow aggressor to be seen.

Rena looked down at Falco and gave him a soft kick with the side of her boot. "You'd better shut your mouth, bird. Next time, I'm going to extend the spike."

"What did I ever do to you?" Falco squawked in pain.

"Your mere existence irritates me," the yellow vixen replied. She then glanced at Fox and said, "Senpai, do we have a hotel or something set up for this job?"

Fox shook his head in response. "I don't know what we're getting into here other than that Pepper is going to pay us for looking into it. There's really not a whole lot of information on what we're supposed to do. I guess it makes sense, since these islands are supposed to be blocked off to almost everyone. Speaking of the islands…"

During the time spent conversing, Slippy closed in on the islands. Dense palm forests covered most of the land, although light beige beaches and wood and stone structures broke up the monotonous foliage. Fox noticed three islands in total; and all but one sported rocky cliffs that seemed to provide a natural defense against invaders. Only the largest island—the least occupied one, Fox noted—had a flat beach that left the interior easily accessible by foot or vehicle. As Slippy guided the chopper over the islands, Fox looked down and laid eyes on a peculiar sight in the center of the large main island—a field full of vibrant, white flowers of a kind which he had never seen before.

His mind began to wonder what other strange treasures the Cerinian Islands hid from the outside world, but Slippy interrupted his thoughts with his grating, obnoxious voice. "Where are we supposed to land?"

Fox groaned and leaned forward, looking through the front windows in hopes of spotting a suitable landing spot. On the smallest of the three islands, he noticed what appeared to be a city center; and on the cobblestone streets partially obscured by the ever-present palm trees, throngs of blue-furred islanders stood, staring at the helicopter as if an ancient god had revealed itself to them in the flesh.

"That courtyard over there looks big enough. Try there," Fox suggested.

Slippy nodded and eased the chopper towards the landing area. Numerous trees encroaching on the settlement kept his nerves on edge as he descended, but he prevented it from getting the best of him and guided the chopper down to the stone pavement, where he landed it with a quick bump.

While Slippy powered down the rotors, Fox unbuckled his seat belt and steeled himself for what was to come next. He had little idea of what to expect, and if he was honest with himself, he expected less than a warm welcome. He stepped out of the cockpit and into the helicopter's crew area, then looked at the rest of the team including Falco, who had re-seated himself as far away from Rena as possible.

"Please," he implored them, "Don't do anything stupid. We don't know what kind of customs they have here, and the last thing we need to do is to piss them off. Got it?"

Everyone—even Falco—nodded.

Fox took a deep breath. "Okay then. Here goes nothing." He reached for the side door release and slid the horizontal side panel open. The vicious sunlight streamed into the crew area, but Fox hardly noticed it. Around the chopper, over a hundred blue-furred foxes clustered together, whispering amongst themselves and staring at the 'unusually-colored' red fox and his crew in front of them. However, even more than their mannerisms, Fox took note of their clothing—or rather, their lack of it.

For the most part, the women wore nothing more than a silk chest wrap or a metallic bra, with a loincloth below the waist. Some chose to wear more comparatively modest tunics, but the thinness and translucency of the materials struck Fox as being even more provocative. Similarly to their mates, most of the men wore little more than a loincloth or a pair of white shorts. Shirts seemed to be in alarmingly short supply on the islands. Even more strangely, none of the islanders looked older than their mid forties. It quickly dawned on Fox where Krystal received her natural beauty from.

Looking out the side of the chopper, Falco curved his beak and let out a loud whistle, but Miyu elbowed him in the chest before he could make too much noise.

Fox gave the bird an evil glare, then stepped out of the helicopter with the rest of the team—as well as Lucas—in tow. Scarlet exited after Falco and Miyu, only to be hit by a wave of intense heat and humidity that gave her pause for thought. _"Dammit—this catsuit is going to have to go. Oh, you have no idea how happy I am these people don't seem to have a problem showing some fur."_

Rounding the front of the helicopter, Fox found himself standing in front of a stone statue depicting a vulpine warrior with a spear in hand. In front of said statue, two particular vulpines stood. The first was a man—a tall, muscular specimen with impossibly blue fur and a physique that could have made even Fox jealous. However, his level of fitness and his jewel-like fur struck Fox as less interesting than his eyes. More specifically, he seemed to lack them. Instead of natural eyes, two metallic spheres with glowing yellow lenses brought a disturbing contrast to his otherwise perfect appearance. Fox had a feeling that the prosthetic eyes functioned properly—a feeling that made him feel even more uncomfortable.

To distract from having to see the muscular fox's synthetic eyes, Fox looked to his right, where he laid eyes on a peculiar-looking vixen with shaved fur and tribal tattoos that snaked up and down her nearly-naked light purple body. The only clothing the vixen wore amounted to a brown loincloth that encircled her waist. She left her chest uncovered apart from a contoured patch of thick fur that added the tiniest scrap of decency to her appearance.

A beautiful young vixen stood next to the strange woman; and her appearance struck Fox as being eerily similar to Krystal's. Apart from her larger bust, piercing orange eyes and her silky island attire, she looked nearly identical to his ongoing 'frienemy.' Fox moved to talk to the man with the prosthetic eyes, but before he could speak, Rena climbed out of the chopper behind him.

The instant she set foot on the cobblestone ground, the entire audience of blue foxes collectively gasped.

"Ak aj…kxo sxejod edo!" someone blurted out.

A split second later, a woman near the back of the assembly screamed, "Whouk Wectod Nuhhaeh! No uho julot!"

Flustered, Rena stopped and looked around at the horde of vulpines, all of whom looked more shocked than Lucas had when she kissed him.

"Senpai? What's going on?"

As Fox turned towards her and held up his hands in resigned desperation, the entire assembly dropped to their knees and bowed numerous times in perfect synchronicity. More alarming to Rena than suddenly being worshiped was the fact that they had clearly practiced this procession before. As they bowed, the Cerinians chanted,

" _Whouk Wectod Nuhhaeh! Wcehaeij Sxact ev Cawxk!"_

" _Kxo Fhefxojaot Julaeh! Nehkxo ke ro nehjxaffot!"_

As a natural introvert who not only disliked religious displays but also feared them in a way, Rena decided that she could not take any more of the natives' alarming adoration. She drew her sword and bared her teeth.

"What the fark is going on here? Stop it now!"

The crowd stopped worshiping, stood up, and took several timid steps back. Many of them held up their hands with expressions of abject horror on their faces.

Rena took a moment to catch her breath. Then, the vixen standing next to the man with prosthetic eyes and his mostly-undressed mate stepped towards her. Like the others, fear radiated from her eyes. "Don't hurt us, please," she begged. To Fox's surprise, her voice had a perfect central Cornerian accent even though it looked like she had never left the islands. "We've been waiting a long time for you to arrive."

Putting her sword back in its sheath on her back, Rena narrowed her eyes. "That's not creepy at all. What do you mean—you've been waiting for me?"

"We have a prophecy, given to us a long time ago. It said that in our hour of greatest darkness, the Great Yellow One would arise and destroy the darkness with a sound that shakes the mountains."

"Wow, that sounds stupid," Rena remarked. "Great Yellow One? Who came up with this crap?"

The young vixen's ears drooped. "That's just how it translates into your language. Why do you have to be so cruel?"

Rena glared at her and answered, "Because I have no patience for silly superstitions. I'm not a god—not like there is one, anyway."

At this, the vixen trembled and raised her hands to the heavens. "How could you say such a thing? The fingerprints of the creators are all around us!"

"If by that you mean 'the outcome of mathematical probability applied to the process of natural selection,' then you'd be correct. Sorry to crap on your silly beliefs. Actually, no, I'm not sorry."

"Rena!" Fox snapped. "Shut up!"

While Rena scowled and turned away from the youthful vixen, Fox walked towards her and held out his hand. Not being familiar with Cornerian etiquette, she awkwardly and limply grabbed it in a way that looked nothing like a handshake.

"Sorry about my teammate," said Fox, "Try to ignore her. I'm Fox, the leader of this group. Are you the interpreter around here?"

"I am," the vixen replied, "I learned your language from the one outsider who lives here. He…doesn't come out much. Anyway, I'm Lilac." She pointed to the man with prosthetic eyes and the woman next to him and explained, "These are my parents, Neron and Hyacinth. My father is the leader of the Taero clan—the ruling family on these islands. You can talk to him through me."

"Thank you." Turning to face Neron, Fox addressed him with uncertainty in his voice. "I was told that you needed help with some people who were attacking you."

Lilac translated his words into the native language for him to understand, then waited for his response and translated it back for Fox. "Yes. Our people are in grave danger. Over the last week, we've been attacked by pirates with weapons far more powerful than ours. We have lost over a hundred of our warriors trying to stop them from raiding our Fields of Life. We are powerless to stop them, which is why we need your help. With the Great Yellow One alongside you, I believe we have a chance, even against the invincible demon who leads the pirates."

Rena sneered before she walked over to Lucas and shook her head.

Fox gave the yellow vixen a cross glare, then replied to Lilac, "We'll do everything we can to stop the people who are attacking you. Do you have anywhere for us to stay while we're here?"

Lilac translated Fox's question for her father, then answered, "We have three empty huts for you. If you wish, I and my wife also have an extra room in our dwelling where you can stay. We need you to be vigilant at night, however."

Fox nodded. "I understand. Thanks for your hospitality."

"Hey," a coarse voice from behind Fox interrupted, "You got any beer around here?"

Lilac turned towards the source of the voice, which—of course—was Falco. "Do we have any…what?"

"That's a 'no,' Falco," said Miyu.

"Aw, dang," the avian groused, "I come to a freaking tropical paradise filled with sun, sand, and half-naked babes and there's not any booze? What kind of crap is this?"

"Ignore him," Fox implored Lilac. "He's an idiot."

"Yes, I think I _will_ ignore him," Lilac grumbled, shaking her head. "I hate to say it, but I don't think your team has left a good first impression."

A quiet snarl emanated from the back of Fox's throat. _"Dammit! Why can't I get a freaking professional team?"_

"What do you mean?" asked Lilac.

"Oh, whoops. I was talking to myself there. Sorry. Uh, can you take us to where we're going to be staying? I think the rest of my team are getting creeped out by everyone staring at them."

"Um, certainly," the vixen replied. "Let me talk to my mother and father first. Also…who is _he?"_ She turned around and pointed to Lucas, who was in the midst of a verbal sparring session with the Great Yellow One.

"Oh, him?"

"Yes, him. He looks like one of us, but there's something…different…about him. He reminds me a little bit of our High Priestess, Agur-Dhalva."

"That's interesting," Fox replied. "I think he's a half-breed. Does that make him one of you?"

Lilac nodded. "He may not be a full-blooded Cerinian, but we'll accept him as one of our own."

Lilac then turned towards her father and mother and began conversing with them in the native language. While she spoke with them, Fox crossed his arms and fidgeted while keeping a close eye on his teammates. Two of them had already given his team a poor introduction, and the last thing he needed was for Rena or Falco to throw any more spanners into the works, so to speak. His eyes jumped from Falco, to Miyu, to Slippy, to Rena, and finally to Lucas before he realized that someone was missing.

" _Hey, wait—where's Scarlet?"_

On cue, a cluster of bushes behind the team's chopper rustled. A moment later, Scarlet emerged with her discarded catsuit slung over her shoulder, which meant that her only clothing amounted to a scanty pair of purple lingerie that had no hope of passing as swimwear. As she regrouped with the team, each of their eyes locked onto her like laser-guided missiles, as did some of the natives'.

"What?" asked Scarlet, shrugging. "I'm just trying to blend in here. Hey—at least I'm wearing more than _she_ is." She pointed towards Hyacinth, who looked away from Lilac and stared at her before letting out a quiet giggle.

"Judging from the way everyone is looking at you, I don't think you're blending in very well," Fox chided her. "Can you at least keep your clothes on until we get to the house we're staying in?"

Scarlet winced. "Come on, Foxie—it's got to be at least 100 degrees out here; and I can't sweat."

"Well, neither can I, but you don't see me complaining about it," Fox replied.

Having no intentions of redressing herself, Scarlet grinned and shook her head. Before she could respond, however, Lilac turned away from her parents and faced the group. "Come on—we're going to the village now. Get your bags if you have any."


	41. Yellow Fury

**Arc VIII: Gratuitous Fanservice Island**

 _Part 2: Yellow Fury_

While Neron and Hyacinth led Fox, Scarlet, Falco, Slippy, and Miyu to a group of rudimentary huts made out of fallen palm trees, straw, and thatch, Lilac took it upon herself to guide Rena and Lucas in the direction of a far nicer temporary residence. The structure in question was nestled against a grove of ancient palms, almost out of view of the nearby huts. The building looked like a cabin, albeit constructed in a style befitting the island locale. An open porch in the front of the veranda greeted them, and when Lilac opened the front door, Rena and Lucas paused in surprise for a moment.

The building's interior looked surprisingly luxurious, even modern in a sense. While small, it featured running water, a sink, a palmwood table and chairs, a large bathtub covered in what looked like gold plating, and a wood-framed bed easily large enough for two people. In addition to the bathtub, gold leaf covered many of the other surfaces inside the veranda.

Taken aback, Rena asked Lilac, "What's this building supposed to be for?"

"It's for you—the prophesied savior," the vixen replied with a reverential smile. "We built it years ago in anticipation of this day."

Rena's enthusiasm disintegrated immediately, but she tried not to let it show. The natives' whole 'Great Yellow One' thing had already struck an angry nerve—not as if those were in short supply with her. "Wow…that's incredible."

Ignoring her demigoddess's flat tone of voice, Lilac replied, "Only one person could ever be worthy of this kind of treatment. Before we entered, my father and mother appointed me to be your personal servant for as long as you choose to stay here."

"That won't be necessary," Rena grumbled.

Looking a bit hurt, Lilac frowned and asked, "Is this not good enough for you? I promise that it is the best we could do for our savior."

Rena sighed and curled the corner of her mouth. "It's fine. No, really, it's nice in here. It's just…can you give me some personal space?"

The native Cerinian tilted her head, suggesting that she did not fully understand what Rena meant by 'personal space.' "I can do that if you'd like. How about I show you around the island first, though?"

Admittedly, the idea held little charm for Rena, but when Lucas nudged her, she relented and muttered, "Sure. It's not like there's much else to do."

Smiling, Lilac turned around and led her guests out of the veranda.

Still peeved about being revered as a god—although at the same time starting to see the benefits of it—Rena stepped out with Lucas in tow. Internally, she found Lilac even more annoying than the rest of the Cerinians, likely because she spoke her language. Still, she knew that no matter how peeved she became at the islanders' antics, she had to keep her temper under control to avoid risking the mission. That, and she figured that maintaining good behavior would go far in convincing her new 'subjects' to shower her with divine gifts and services.

Looking over her shoulder at Lucas and Lilac, Rena followed the narrow dirt path out of the village and into a wooded area packed with overgrown palms and ferns. "So," she asked, stopping and turning towards Lilac, "Who's this one outsider you've got on these islands? It might be nice to meet someone else who doesn't exclusively speak gibberish."

Despondent anger flared up in Lilac's eyes, but she restrained herself and replied, "The doctor is the person you're looking for. I can take you to him, but I can't do anything else. He's not stable. I don't even think it's a good idea to look for him. If you're looking for someone who speaks your language, I can take you to his daughter. She's a friend of mine. I think I'm her only friend, actually…"

Rena shook her head. "You've got me interested. I want to see the doctor. What happened to him, though?"

"I'm not entirely sure. He's been that way ever since I've known him. I think it's because his wife died or disappeared. If you really want to meet him, he's this way." Lilac pointed down the trail towards a distant pathway that sloped downwards and to the left. "I have to warn you: I won't follow you past the entrance to the trail."

Looking at her guide with displeasure, Rena replied, "Chicken."

"What's that?"

While Rena ground her teeth in frustration, Lucas answered, "A medium-sized, flightless bird that lacks sapience. Actually, they _can_ fly, but not very far or very well. Also, they taste delicious."

"Why would she call me that?" Lilac asked, arching an eyebrow. "That doesn't have anything to do with this at all."

Rena put her hands on her hips and barked, "It's because you're being a pansy."

"What's a pansy?"

Once again, Lucas explained, "A small, colorful flower native to certain parts of the planet Lylat. It's one of the few flowers that can bloom during winter, which makes it perfect for landscapers and gardeners who don't want to look at dirt all season."

"Interesting," said Lilac. "But what's this 'winter'?"

"A farking shit stain of a season where dreams go to die," Rena snapped. "You know, what? I'm going to go on by myself if you're too scared to deal with this 'doctor' guy. I'm sure he can't possibly be that bad."

Lilac's eyes went wide. "I will pray for your safety."

"That's it!" Rena shouted, "I've about had it with… _no, no—I've got to calm down. I don't want to get my godhood revoked and have to stay in one of those stupid huts like the others. Oh, but these farking_ savages _are making me want to murder something. Try to calm down, Rena—focus your anger on the people who are attacking these islands. It's pretty out here, it's not cold, Lucas is with you, and the birds are chirping. It's nice here."_

Not wanting to speak with Lilac anymore, Rena stomped down the trail until she arrived at the point where the path diverged into two. The right of the two dirt trails seemed to head to the ocean and the beach up ahead, while the other path led downwards through a narrow, rocky crevasse. Undaunted by the slightly intimidating appearance of the left path, she stepped onto it. She noticed a sign hammered into the ground to her right. In Cornerian, it read, "Go away. This means _you!"_

Rena found it humorous that whoever had posted the sign—almost certainly the doctor—had written his message in a language that no one on the islands could read or understand, apart from Lilac. More than that, though, she wondered why he was even on the islands to begin with.

The trail grew narrower and steeper the farther she traveled down it. She looked over her shoulder to make sure that Lucas was still behind her. To her relief, he trailed by fifty feet. After three hundred yards of descent, the path leveled out. As it did, the sound of a waterfall filled her ears. The path made a sharp right turn; and on the other side of it, a river from higher up on the island cascaded over a ridge, where it splashed down and formed a rivulet that ran down to the nearby sea that Rena saw through the trees ahead of her. Through said trees, she also thought she saw a tall lupine woman sitting on a beachside rock.

Near the waterfall stood a simple house made out of logs taken from felled palm trees. The building possessed a number of cuts in its sides that were designed to function as windows, while a crude array of solar panels sat atop the roof. Considering that the island lacked wind turbines and fossil fuels—and that the sun never seemed to hide— the panels were the only effective way to generate power on the islands.

With Lucas behind her, Rena approached the front door and ascended the four short steps leading up to the porch in front of it. The main door lacked a knob. Instead, a long, metal bar slid into a slot in the wood. Upon closer examination, it looked like an iron barrel brace that had been sliced in half and bent back into a straight line.

Glancing back at Lucas, she looked at the door and knocked on it.

Silence.

"Hey—anyone there?" she called out, smacking the door with her knuckles again.

As before, no response came.

Rena frowned and then turned towards Lucas, who crossed his arms and frowned. "Looks like he's not home," the jackal suggested. "We should probably go."

"Bull," Rena replied. "He just doesn't want to come out. Get my back—I'm going in."

"Rena, this is stupid!"

"No, _you're_ stupid." With that, she reached up and pulled the iron bar out of its slot. Without it, the door swung outwards on its own to reveal a rudimentary kitchen and dining area. A surprisingly large palm wood table and matching chairs sat on the left side of the room. Humorously enough considering the locale, an ancient picture tube television rested upon a homemade cabinet with wires running up the wall behind it and into the ceiling. A driftwood chair covered in what looked like the pelts of small animals sat between the television and the kitchen area. As with the table and chairs, Rena noted its prodigious size. She figured that she could curl up into a ball in the chair with plenty of room to spare if she so desired.

Then, her sensitive, pointed ears picked up a sound nearby. It came from behind a door down the short hallway to the left of the kitchen. Creeping across the floor, she slipped up to the door and put one of her ears to it. Semi-coherent whispered ranting emanated through the wood. To her, it sounded like someone talking to himself. Against anyone else's better judgment, she pushed the door open.

Inside, the most colossal lupine she had ever seen leaned over a wooden table. The enormous specimen stood seven feet tall—so tall that he looked almost frail despite his toned muscles suggesting otherwise. He wore a beige button down shirt and matching khaki cargo shorts that looked antiquated at best, and a pair of tiny rounded spectacles sat atop the bridge of his muzzle. However, his appearance was somewhat lost on Rena when she glanced at the substance on his table.

" _Eww! Is that…really…?"_

The instant she repulsed in horror, the lupine spun towards her with eyes agape, ears on end, and tail in a frazzled poof. "Gadzooks! What the blazes are you doing in my abode! Depart from hence, vermin!" He clutched at his head, an act he immediately regretted considering what was on his hands. "And to think that I was _just_ about to confirm my alchemical hypothesis regarding the transmutation of organic fecal matter into usable compounds before you so brazenly _dared_ to enter my fortress of solitude which I explicitly forbade _anyone_ from ever so much as _contemplating_ approaching! And now, thanks to you, I have shit on my hands! Good lord! It's contaminating the air! Sanitizer! Where is it! Egads!

Ignoring Rena's befuddled stare, he darted around the room until he found a transparent plastic pump bottle filled with a clear liquid. He snatched it up, then grimaced when he realized that he had contaminated that as well.

"Be cleansed!" he shouted, pumping the top of the bottle and pointing it in all directions. Sanitizer flew through the air, but not being an aerosol, it fell to the ground and splattered against the wood a second later. Not missing a beat, he sprinted towards a nearby sink and turned it on, splashing water all over his hands and face. With his fur dripping, he turned and faced Rena and Lucas with an expression of hatred etched into his harsh lupine muzzle.

"Uh…hi there," Rena deadpanned.

"Hello, indeed!" the lupine huffed, clenching his fists. "What manner of black sorcery could have brought you here to disrupt my experimentation? It was my daughter's friend, Lilac, was it not? The vile strumpet refuses to respect me and my daughter's space. Were it not for my daughter's irrational affection for that beast, I would have taken appropriate action to prevent her from ever approaching this locale."

In spite of her own distaste for Lilac, Rena internally admitted that she pitied her somewhat on account of the wolf's savage rant. "Actually, she stayed back at the entrance to the trail that led us here. She said it was too dangerous for her."

"Thank the heavens! For once, I have been spared!" the lupine exulted. In a moment, however, his expression hardened again. "Now, pray tell, why in blazes are you here?"

Rena shifted her eyes and sheepishly replied, "I was told that there was someone on these islands who spoke coherent Cornerian. Other than 'that beast,' of course."

"I see the locals have already proven themselves insufferable to you as well," the lupine observed, clasping his hands behind his back. "Well then, I can hardly blame you. I am Dr. Voltimure Reige. I would have you shake my hand, but considering the traces of manure that still adorn them, I shall not require such a gesture from you." He then added, "I have the misfortune of being the only licensed medical professional on these islands, which is—to put it bluntly—a royal pain in the arse."

"I'm Rena. He's Lucas," Rena replied, pointing to her black and blue friend. "He might look like he belongs here, but he's an outsider, too."

In response, Lucas merely waved without saying a word.

Stroking his muzzle, Voltimure cocked his head and suggested, "Say, your fur color—it is intriguing. The locals have a prophecy about a 'Great Yellow One' who's supposed to save them in their darkest hour. Considering that the islands have been raided three times in the past week, I would say that may qualify."

Rena rolled her eyes. "Oh, I've heard about the prophecy. What a pile of crap. Who's actually stupid enough to believe in things like that?"

A wizened expression appeared on Dr. Reige's face. "Clearly, you have not been on the Isles of Cerinia long enough to realize that there may be more to things than your immediate rational mind can understand."

"Oh, give me a break."

Suddenly on the defensive, Voltimure lowered his head, but in a way that came across as threatening as opposed to acquiescing. "Do you understand that I have an estimated intellectual quotient of nearly 200? I assure you that I am not one to allow folklore to alter my thinking."

"IQ's are pointless," Rena declared. "I've seen a lot of very smart idiots."

"Perhaps so, but when one's mind has been elucidated by the truth of the universe and the source of this nebulous sphere known as 'reality,' one can never look at everyday occurrences the same way again. After over twenty years of living on these islands and observing the ever-so-annoying natives and the stories regarding their origins, I have come to a conclusion about a great many things, namely, the nature of reality and the composition of the universe as we know it."

Rena narrowed her eyes in a disbelieving, incredulous manner. Chuckling, she replied, "Oh, that's rich—you've discovered the nature of reality and the universe by studying a bunch of savages who wear buttflaps and look at _everything_ like it was a gift from some nebulous 'creator.'"

"Are you interested in hearing my hypothesis, or are you too self-absorbed to listen to the byproduct of two decades' worth of study?" Reige fired back.

Rena sighed. "Fine. Go ahead."

"Thank you," Reige snorted. "As you might know, many of the Cerinian people have a sense of telepathy, some more than others. When I first observed this, I wondered how it was possible for my thoughts to be perceived, regardless of what I did to obscure them. It was this disturbing development that led me to my studies on the Cerinian people. It did not end with mere thoughts, though. There are some—although they are rare in the extreme—whose psychic ability passes into the realm of consciousness. I know this because I was married to one."

"Wait, what?"

"Indeed," said Voltimure, "You see, I came to these islands by accident. I was the head researcher on a vessel investigating the possibility of using seaborne bacteria as a catalyst for sustainable biofuels. During the voyage, a tempest arose. The boat was destroyed, and only I managed to survive the wreck. After gathering all the supplies that I could fit on my back, I floated to the shore on a barrel.

"When I landed on the beach, I found the natives under attack by a clan of cannibals from another island in the area. The Cerinians lacked the numbers to defeat them, but I conveniently happened to have salvaged a shotgun from my wrecked ship. In short, the weapon terrified the cannibals to the point that they fled the islands and have never returned since. In gratitude for me rescuing them, one of these islands' clan leaders gave me his young daughter as a gift."

Rena's eyes went wide. "Say _what?!_ "

"Yes, that sort of thing is normal here, it appears," Reige explained. "I thought about explaining to them that I already had a wife back in Corneria, but it seems that it is in bad taste to reject a gift from these people. Besides, I realized that escaping these islands was an impossible endeavor; and more to the point, my Cerinian wife was the most beautiful creature I had ever laid eyes upon. I believe she had some misgivings about being mated to an outsider, but she came around eventually.

That was when I realized that these people are not in any way normal. While learning the native language from my new wife while teaching her mine, I discovered the history of these islands. According to tradition, a small group of this world's creators decided that it would be interesting to live among their creations, so they did just that. For a short period of time, they lived on these islands and interbred with the people who eventually became the Cerinians. Somewhat predictably, however, they grew tired of life in this sphere and went back to their own world, leaving behind a race of telepaths.

Over the centuries and millennia since then, their natural abilities have weakened substantially. At this point in time, it is rare for any of the natives to have psychic abilities beyond reading surface level emotions."

Rena frowned. "Anyone can do that."

"Exactly," Reige replied. "However, there are a select few whose powers go far beyond that. One of them was my wife. She was the granddaughter of the High Priestess of these islands, with a bloodline that stretched back to the precursors themselves. Some of the things she did…I could not believe them at the time."

"What kind of things are you talking about?" asked Rena. At the same time, Lucas took a step back and crossed his arms as if to broadcast unease about the topic.

Reige continued, "Acts befitting a god. I do not exaggerate." When Rena gave him a sardonic stare, he explained, "I recall one time when these islands were plunged into a drought, the likes of which these people had never seen. So dramatic it was that even our eternal Fields of Life were threatened. When all seemed lost, my wife willed a monsoon into existence. It was the most harrowing event I have ever experienced."

A mocking laugh escaped Rena's mouth. "That is the most ridiculous thing I think I've ever heard. You really expect me to believe that? Also, what are these so-called 'Fields of Life'?"

The lupine put his hands on his hips. "The natives have demanded that I tell no one what the Fields of Life are. If you continue to denigrate my personal experiences which I have meticulously recorded in a series of notebooks, I will have no choice but to obey them and keep the secret hidden. And wouldn't that be a shame?" At this, he delivered a subtle smirk, which incensed Rena.

"Fine, then. Keep telling your story," Rena grumbled. "Don't expect me to believe it, though."

"Since it appears that you are loath to believe me, I will cut to the chase and give you the Precipice Notes version regarding the outcome of my research, which goes as follows: all observable reality exists exclusively in the mind. Every living being has a different version of reality. For example, I could see you as a walking pile of feces, and I would be just as correct in my observation as you are. You see, the only way we can agree on anything being 'real' is if a consensus opinion is created by a group of people who experience similar things. However, that does not exclude the very real possibility that these things are not real at all."

Tilting her head, Rena demanded, "Get to the point already."

"You truly are insufferable," the doctor snapped. "The point is that the world we see it may as well be a series of 1's and 0's, much like a computer program. If someone were to be able to access the code, as it were, they could manipulate the world and reality itself. I am convinced that my wife had this ability. I studied it as best I could, and this is the conclusion I reached. All that is real is that which can be processed by the mind. If someone were to manipulate your mind and insert details that were not present before, those details would be just as real as the ones that you observed prior to this."

The doctor continued, "But, to some degree, all our minds are connected, for we all see things similarly, if not identically. I consider this to be the product of a sphere of thought—a 'noosphere', if you will. Much like how the biosphere contains the sum of life in this world, the noosphere contains the integrated sum of intelligent thought. Someone with access to this collective sphere of thought could alter the fabric of the planet on a whim—a power usually reserved for the gods of mythology. And, if it is true that the Cerinians are the descendents of this world's creators, it stands to reason that some of them, such as my wife, would have these abilities. If you wish to be testy and decry my research, I am open to reasonable criticisms."

Rena frowned and let out a tense breath. "That's…uh, interesting. Yeah, really interesting."

"I see you still refuse to acknowledge my experiences," Reige huffed. "Well then, I shall attempt to persuade you with a 'real world' test." He turned to face Lucas, who by this point had backed into the hallway outside the room. "I say, you there! Your fur color appears to be consistent with the native Cerinians who have possessed the greatest set of mental powers. Every Cerinian I've met with your colors has been able to perform telekinesis on some level. So, why don't you demonstrate this for us and put your utterly maddening friend in her place?"

"I, uh…" Lucas stammered, "I'm not really sure about tha…"

"Oh nonsense! You see that potted plant on the counter over there? How about you move it over a foot or so?"

"With my mind?"

"Yes, with your mind. How else did you expect that to happen?"

Trying to prevent her eyes from rolling out of her skull, Rena smirked and looked at her friend. "Use the Force, Lucas!"

With a quiet huff, Lucas stared at the small potted plant near the window above the doctor's counter. "All right—here it goes."

He closed his eyes and held out his hand until it shook. Despite all the sound and fury, however, the plant refused to budge so much as an inch. After half a minute, he opened his eyes and gasped unrealistically. "I can't do it. It's impossible."

Whereas the lupine doctor had previously been jubilant and confident in his assertions, Lucas's failure to move the plant crushed him. His eyes fell, and he lowered his head. "B…But, how?" he muttered aloud. "You must be a half-breed or something of the like. No, but even that wouldn't be enough to keep… Gah! This makes no sense!"

Rena thought about twisting the knife in the wound, as it were, but she refrained in the interest of possibly finding out about what the Fields of Life were in the future. With a faint smile, she said, "Come on, Lucas. Let's go."

While the yellow vixen and the black and blue jackal walked away from him, Dr. Reige clutched his head with his sanitized hands and shouted, "That was a bad sample! Science is never wrong! Do you hear me? SCIENCE!"

* * *

 _-_ § _-_

* * *

The hours ticked by. During the morning and afternoon, Fox and his team explored the island, played in the crystal blue ocean, and learned pieces of the island's history from Lilac, who was happy to spend time away from the surly Great Yellow One. One detail bothered Fox, however: the natives point blank refused to mention anything about the Fields of Life, even though his mission from General Pepper centered on preventing the enigmatic Fyvve and his mercenaries from raiding them. Whenever he mentioned the topic to Lilac, her normally upbeat countenance dropped like a boulder off a cliff.

He wondered if a certain ex-Cerinian knew the truth about them.

By this point, the sun had fallen beneath the waves surrounding the island. The full moon shone overhead, its white rays bouncing off the ocean with an almost painful level of luminosity. Around the moon, legions of stars shared the night sky. With no light pollution whatsoever, the celestial light show was a once in a lifetime spectacle for Fox and his team. Well, at least for the few members who were still awake.

Rena and Lucas wandered off to spend some time alone on the island's largest beach, while Falco, Slippy, and Miyu all headed for their temporary beds. This left Fox and Scarlet, both of whom had agreed to take up sentry duty for the first night on the islands. The two foxes set up camp at the peak of a large hill overlooking the bay where the raiders had allegedly been coming in from. The Cerinian village lay far behind them, obscured by palm trees and island shrubs. As the hour grew late, Fox wondered if anyone else was awake apart from him and Scarlet.

He looked around, first at the village, then at the ocean, and then finally to an imposing stone structure built on top of a rocky column that jutted out from the ocean on the back side of the island. Lilac claimed that the Cerinian High Priestess lived there; and that no one could enter the building unless the Priestess herself had summoned them.

Fox turned around and put his attention back on Scarlet as she lounged on the grass. As a way of fitting in with the locals while finding a way to beat the heat, she had left her catsuit in her and Fox's hut and changed into a pair of Lilac's spare island garments. Fox had no complaints with seeing her wearing the outfit, and Scarlet found it comfortable.

Fox kept a battle rifle with a variable zoom scope by his side, but he did it more out of instinct than the need to protect himself. He figured that if Fyvve and his bandits decided to attack the islands that night, he would see the ships coming long before he needed to alert the islanders to their presence. For the time being, all he saw on the ocean were reflections of the moon in the waves.

Scarlet interrupted his thoughts by making a vaguely erotic sigh. She turned towards him with a twinkle in her eye and whispered, "Well, we've got all night to do nothing. Might as well spice it up, don't you think?"

Fox blushed and looked over his shoulder at the distant village behind him. "You know, someone's probably going to find out what we're doing. You know, telepathy and all."

"Pfft," Scarlet spat, waving Fox's comment off. "All the better if they do find out. They won't bother us if they know we're doing the do."

Fox shrugged. "You may have a point."

"That's what I wanted to hear," Scarlet chuckled. Grinning from ear to ear, she reached behind her back and set to work untying her chest wrap until she felt the fabric go limp. She placed the thin piece of cloth on the ground next to her and arched her back, then told Fox, "Your turn."

Although he felt awkward engaging in such an intimate activity out in the open, he complied with Scarlet's wishes and began removing his shirt. However, before he could pull it over his head, his phone rang, leaving him looking like he had become trapped in his shirt.

"Are you kidding me?" Scarlet huffed. "This had better be important."

Fox frowned and pulled his shirt back down. Thanks to him having forgotten to lower the volume on his phone, the screeching ringtone seared the airwaves and effectively destroyed any privacy that he and Scarlet may have had. He dug his hand into his pocket and yanked out his phone. After silencing the ringer, he glanced that the screen.

RESTRICTED

He rolled his eyes. "Hello? Fox here."

" _Good evening, Fox,"_ said General Pepper.

Despite being relieved that Pepper—and not O'Donoughue—had called him, he still felt frustrated by the poor timing of the call. "You know, it's 1:00 AM here."

" _I apologize if I happened to interrupt your precious sleep, soldier,"_ the general chuckled. _"I decided that what I have to tell you could not wait until the morning."_

Ears on end, Fox asked, "So, what did you want to tell me? Did you get that info on Fyvve?"

" _Indeed I did. My secretary did a search of old military records and discovered his entire record. Although, after having read the files myself, I will admit that I am a bit concerned for you now."_

"What did the files say?"

Pepper cleared his throat, then explained, _"About five years ago, my predecessor General Akita had an idea so catastrophically bad that he was sacked for it. His idea was to take willing convicts who passed a stringent set of physical exams and train them to be an elite combat unit, complete with cutting-edge equipment, weapons, and tactics. The idea was similar to the Advanced Soldier Training Program that you and Miss Altruis completed, but because convicts were used instead of law-abiding citizens, the military was willing to overlook some of the more, shall we say, 'dubious' moral elements of such a program."_

"So, basically, the training was brutal and a lot of them died."

" _Correct,"_ said Pepper, _"However, the few that did survive the training became a ruthlessly efficient fighting force that we entrusted with some of the Cornerian Army's most dangerous and risky missions. General Akita called them the Rippers. Never once did they let us down. Unfortunately, the group's captain—Fyvve—convinced them to rebel against the military and strike out on their own. Despite us throwing everything we had at them, they managed to escape the country. Over the years, our agents tracked down all the rogue Rippers, but Fyvve has yet to be caught. According to one of the files I read, the last time anyone saw Fyvve was as he was escaping a staged trap by helicopter. Over the sound of the blades, the agent heard him shout…ahem…'try to catch up, motherf***er.'"_

Incredulous, Fox asked, "You mean, like the lyric in that Pink Lark song? Also, why was that censored?"

" _I am not sure,"_ Pepper replied, _"Because the official reports would not dilute anything, I suspect that he may have censored his own speech."_

"That's…strange. Thanks for the info, though. I'll be careful if I end up running into Fyvve."

" _Yes—you should definitely do that. Fyvve is extremely dangerous and very well armed. Reports in my files claimed that when shot at, bullets would simply bounce off his armor. His body count is estimated as being over two hundred."_

Fox's eyes widened. "Um…well…all right, then. Good to know."

" _You're welcome, Fox. After reading the files on Fyvve, I would not blame you if you decided to leave the islands, if you know what I mean…"_

"Are you suggesting that I bail out on the mission?"

" _You can take it any way you'd like, but if anyone asks, I never told you that."_

"Gotcha. I'll talk to you later, General."

" _Indeed,"_ Pepper replied, _"Take care of yourself, Fox. Pepper out!"_

Taking a deep breath, Fox slid his phone back into his pocket and stared blankly at Scarlet. After the harrowing conversation with General Pepper, seeing his girlfriend topless in front of him created a strange dichotomy of emotions.

"What was that about?" the vixen asked.

Scratching the back of his head, Fox explained, "Basically, Pepper says that the guy who's leading the invading mercenaries is nigh invulnerable and that he wouldn't punish me for bailing out on the mission."

"Aha," Scarlet mumbled. "That's encouraging."

"I know, right? What do you think we should do?"

Scarlet shrugged—an action that caused her breasts to bounce in a way that derailed Fox's train of thought in the blink of an eye. "It's your call, Foxie. As much as I love self-preservation, getting the credit for killing an invincible enemy sounds like it would be pretty nice. Plus, we've been pretty lucky so far. There's no reason to think that it won't continue."

"I like that attitude. I guess we'll stick around, then."

Scarlet shifted on the grass, then put her finger on the tip of her muzzle in thought. After a moment, a disappointed expression appeared on her face. "Well, since Pepper ruined our sexy time, I guess now would be the best time to tell you that thing I said I'd bring up when the time was right."

Although he tried to mask it, Fox had a feeling that he would not like what Scarlet had in mind to say. "Oh yeah? What's that?"

"Try not to take this the wrong way," the vixen sighed, "But after this whole business with East Fortuna is over, I'm going to go back to my work."

Fox returned a look of hardened stoicism. "Is that your way of saying you're breaking up with me?"

"In a way, yeah," Scarlet admitted. "Don't get me wrong—it's been fun. But, it's not going to work for me in the long run. I've got to do my thing, and I don't do long-distance relationships."

"Aw, come on. They're not that bad," said Fox, waving her off.

"It isn't what you think. When I'm working, I can't have any distractions. If I'm on a job and you're on my mind, I'm at a disadvantage. I can't have that. If I get too used to you being around to love on me whenever I feel like it, I'm not going to be in a good frame of mind when I get a craving and you're on the other side of the world."

Fox rolled his eyes and muttered, "So instead, you'd prefer to have a one night stand with some random guy. I see how it is."

"No—it's not like that," Scarlet insisted. "As horny as I can be, I'm also really picky. I know the consequences of my actions, and I know it's not in my best interest to spread the love around everywhere. That's why I go through so many batteries."

"Explain Bruno, then."

"Oh, come on! Bruno's a stud. There's no way I'd ever turn _that_ down. Look, Fox—what I'm getting at is that I need my freedom, and I'm not going to be tied down…well, not _literally_ tied down, because that's just damn sexy. What I mean is that you need structure in your life. You want a relationship with someone who's stable, who can be relied on as a partner, who'll back you up when things get tough. I'm not that kind of person."

Scooting forward on the grass, Fox reached out and fondled Scarlet's shoulder. "It's really mature for you to say that, Scars. And I completely understand."

Lowering her voice to a whisper, she replied, "Just because we're not going to be together anymore doesn't mean I'm kicking you out of my life. If our paths cross later and you're not tied up with someone else, I'll be more than happy to be the best friend with benefits you'll ever have. And I've got some _great_ benefits." She winked and smiled.

Fox smiled back, although part of him felt disappointment about Scarlet's intentions. "I know you do."

At that moment, he thought he heard something. His ears swiveled in the direction of the closest beach.

"What is it?" asked Scarlet.

Fox held up a finger, requesting silence. "I think I heard someone yelling. It sounded a bit like Rena."

In response, the red vixen stuck her tongue out and rolled her eyes in scorn. "Oh, whatever. I'm over her stupid little hissy fits. Ignore it."

"Well, you know, those 'hissy fits' _have_ resulted in people dying before, so…"

"Really, Fox—I'm sure it's nothing." Scarlet yawned, then licked her lips. "I'm tired. If you don't mind, I think I'm going to sleep for a little while."

Fox shrugged. "Sure. Aren't you going to put your top back on?"

Scarlet shook her head. "Nah. If someone shows up, just shake me and hand me the cloth. I don't think these people care about boobs, though. Lilac's mom seems to be okay with flashing everybody, so I don't see why it would be a problem for me."

"Hyacinth is kind of flat-chested, though," Fox noted.

Scarlet shrugged. "Eh, you may have a point. But I don't care. Now, shut up and let me sleep."

Leaning forward, Fox smiled and whispered, "Not until I kiss you goodnight."

* * *

 _-_ § _-_

* * *

 _A few minutes earlier…_

Rena and Lucas lounged on the beach, watching the moonlit waves make inroads to the moist sand thirty feet in front of them before they retreated with foamy trails. Admittedly, Rena would have preferred to be asleep, but Lilac's insistence on following her around and attending to her needs prevented her from achieving any kind of 'alone time.' Hence, the reason she had brought Lucas out to the beach after midnight. Considering how tired both of them were, neither Rena nor Lucas spoke much. After a long pause in conversation, however, Lucas took a deep breath and looked at Rena.

"You should be more kind to Lilac. She really hasn't done anything to you."

"Besides annoying the hell out of me," Rena snapped.

Pausing for a moment, Lucas collected himself, then suggested, "Rena, that kind of brings me to a point I've wanted to talk to you about for a while now." While the yellow vixen stared at him with narrowed eyes, he continued, "Don't take this the wrong way, but you're completely self-absorbed."

"And other people aren't?" Rena growled, glaring daggers at Lucas.

He shook his head. "Selfishness is a vice that we all have to deal with, but it's to our advantage as a society that we learn how to look out for each others' interests. If we all cared for each other, we'd all get what we wanted in the end."

"No—they'd all get what they wanted for me, and I'd get shafted. Trust me, I know this from experience. That crap you just shat out of your mouth about made me hurl."

"Rena, just hear me out. Don't you want to be happy?"

"Sure, but that's impossible when I have to deal with some of the idiots who I'm forced to spend time with."

"Okay. So, what could they change to make themselves more tolerable to you?"

Rena tapped her muzzle. "How about learning how not to annoy me, for starters?"

"By doing what?"

"I…um," Rena mumbled, suggesting a lack of an answer, "How about learning what makes me mad and then never, _ever_ doing those things around me?"

Lucas opened his hands. "So, what you're suggesting is that to keep you from flying off the handle and throwing pizza wheels, everybody needs to change to fit you."

"That's right. It's like you suddenly just figured that out."

"Don't you realize how hypocritical that sounds?" asked Lucas, shifting closer to Rena.

Traces of rage filtered into Rena's eyes. "Don't you dare call me a hypocrite. They don't understand what I deal with. They don't understand how full of shit they all are. If they had the brainpower to see things the way I see them, they'd realize how pathetic they all are and how right I am."

Despite his best efforts to hide it, an exasperated sigh escaped Lucas's mouth. "Basically, you think you're always right, and anyone who questions that fact is an idiot who should be shot for being stupid. Rena, please, don't get mad at me, but you can't keep thinking like that. It's why everyone walks on eggshells around you and tries to avoid you. You're lonely because you're shutting everyone out for not acting exactly the way you want them to."

Rena closed her eyes. A second later, she opened them. This time, pure hatred shot forth from them. The fur on the back of her neck stood up, and she bared her teeth. Clenching her fists, she growled, "I always knew you were trying to change me, just like all the others. You almost had me fooled for a while, but I knew deep down that you couldn't come to grips with my intellectual superiority and that you'd eventually try to 'fix' me." Staring Lucas in the eyes, she pushed herself into a crouch and said, "I've got three words for you…

"…Fark off, asshole."

With that, she turned and pummeled Lucas in the chest with a rage-filled side kick. The jackal groaned and rolled onto his back, but he leaped into a standing position in the blink of an eye. Visibly shaken and even frightened, he tentatively held his fists out in a fighting stance and faced Rena.

"You heard what I said!" Rena screamed, her ears flat against her skull. "Get away from me!"

To her surprise, Lucas held his ground.

"If I don't see you turn around and run, mark my words… I. Will. Kill. You."

A brief expression of sadness crossed Lucas's face. But as soon as it came, it vanished, replaced by determined, stone-faced anger. As he stared down his now-former girlfriend, his voice changed. His understated rasp made way for a throaty growl indicative of a person far more powerful than him. "You were right—I _did_ try to change you. I tried to change you because you're a menace. You're a threat to yourself, you're a threat to the people around you, and in the right time and place in the future, you might even become a threat to the world. And I cannot allow that to happen."

"A menace, huh? You made your last mistake, idiot." With that, Rena advanced towards him, hands held in front of her face. As furious as she was, she knew better than to charge Lucas, especially when she knew nothing about his level of combat prowess. Yet still, she made sure to send every nonverbal cue explaining that she meant every word when she warned Lucas that she would kill him if he did not turn and run.

Staring him in the face, she lashed out with a flurry of rapid-fire punches that any fighter apart from a martial arts master had no hope of blocking. Yet, to her shock, he deflected every one of them without so much as flinching. His etched stone facial expression remained unchanged.

Rena snarled and launched a quick, low right roundhouse kick aimed at Lucas's knee. He reacted in an instant, kicking out his left leg and blocking the attack. Rena struggled to regain her footing, which left her open to a retaliatory strike for a fraction of a second. Time slowed to a crawl as she stared into Lucas's scarlet eyes. Then, something happened—something that shook her to her core.

A faint, translucent blue aura built up around the jackal's body, appearing similar to the heat waves radiating from an inferno. At the same time, every trace of blue on his body luminesced simultaneously. A grouping of ghostly red and black trails materialized behind his head and danced in the air like flames. His eyes themselves became too bright to look into.

Stunned, Rena lost track of her surroundings until the monster in front of her stepped forward and kicked her between the legs with a force so crushing that she felt like she would explode from the inside. The fiery aura surrounding Lucas consumed her, but she barely noticed it because her feet left the ground as if she had been yanked upwards by a string in the sky. She launched into the air, flying over thirty feet upwards and tumbling end over end. Panic struck her as she hung in midair for a split second and then began plummeting towards the sand below. At the last possible moment, she righted herself and landed on her feet. Her leg implants absorbed the impact of the landing, preventing any additional injuries.

As she batted the blue flames off her combat suit and stared at the spectral monstrosity that her former boyfriend had become, rage spilled from her lips. "I wasn't completely serious about killing you, but I farking am now! Try blocking _this_ , you freak!"

She drew her sword and charged towards Lucas. After landing on the beach, seventy feet stood between her and her opponent. While she sprinted towards him, Lucas pulled both of his hands to his right side and formed them in the shape of a large sphere. The blue fire pulsating from his body filled in the gap between his hands, creating a churning blue and white circle that spat forth lightning every other second. When Rena came within thirty feet of him, he unleashed it.

Rena's reflexes took over. She pushed herself off the ground, launching into the air while somersaulting and twisting in an attempt at maximizing her airtime. Her leg implants boosted her jump and allowed her to leap over the incoming ball of energy. She landed on her feet, losing almost no speed in the process. With her foe out of tricks, she flattened her ears, bared her teeth and screamed bloody murder as she swung her sword at Lucas.

The blade tore through him as easily as it would a piece of cheese.

Lucas's black cloak floated to the ground in two pieces, but his body was nowhere to be seen. Panting from exertion, Rena sheathed her sword and looked around. To her relief, no one seemed to be watching, although a local somewhere had likely taken note of her angry thought patterns. She knelt next to Lucas's cloak and picked it up. As the seconds ticked on, her rage began to subside. In its place, a tremor of fear besieged her heart. She knew the feeling well—it had plagued her for years, and only the act of interacting with certain tolerable people could keep it in check. One of those people was Fox, her senpai. The other was Lucas.

The complete absence of anything biological where Lucas had previously been standing frightened Rena. She recalled seeing a popular sci-fi movie where a vaguely similar monk-like warrior vanished into thin air after being sliced apart by a sword, and she wondered if the same thing had somehow happened to Lucas.

The panic increased. She tried burying it with her rage, but no amount of anger had any effect on the wave of fear that gripped at her cold heart. She tried to convince herself that Lucas deserved to die for trying to alter her behavior, but his indicting final words stuck in her mind and sent shivers down her spine. If anyone else had suggested that she needed to become more compassionate towards the idiots surrounding her, she would have laughed them off. Lucas was different, though. She actually liked him— _had_ liked him, more specifically. She realized that in the end, he was right. In the aftermath of her murderous outburst, one clear realization occurred to her:

It was all her own farking fault. Everything—from the way people acted towards her; to her permanent state of isolation; to her inability to deeply enjoy anything thanks to her deeply held cynicism; and to her consistent cutting down of others as an attempt to build up her own fragile ego. The reality of her own existence finally hit home, and the one person who had shown the persistence and courage to confront her was now dead at her own hands.

Her hands sifted through Lucas's torn cloak. Pulling the pieces apart, she noticed a small pendant lying on the sand underneath the fabric. From a delicate silver chain hung a tiny red and white brooch. It resembled a ball with a small button in the middle. Picking up the pendant, she held it in front of her face. At that moment, a feeling that she suppressed more than any other broke through.

She dropped the pendant on the beach, held her head in her hands, and bawled. Through tears, she reached down again and picked up Lucas's pendant—the last trace of his existence—and clipped it around her neck. Desperation and rage cascaded from her mind, but tremors of remorse rumbled internally. Guilt and shame came seconds later. The memories of people she had shunned, bullied, insulted, injured, and even murdered returned, taunting her in the light of her most recent rash decision.

Still holding her head in her hands, she stood up and trudged back towards her distant veranda. She knew that Fox and Scarlet had been posted on guard duty for the night and was aware of where they had chosen to camp out, so she made every effort to stay out of that area in the interest of avoiding all contact with other living beings.

After minutes of walking, she reached the main village and her veranda. Looking around to make sure no eyes were upon her, she quietly opened the front door and slipped inside. To her relief, Lilac was nowhere to be seen; and she intended to keep it that way. She turned around and locked the door to prevent her host from entering. Then, she turned her attention to the array of candles burning in the corners of the room. Extinguishing all of them, she lay down on the mattress intended for both her and Lucas and cried herself to sleep.

* * *

 _-_ § _-_

* * *

Nestled among a cluster of trees near the beach, Lilac stood in shock, tears in her eyes from the scene she had just witnessed.

" _She…killed…him…"_

The young vixen struggled to believe what she had seen. Up until the previous week, murder was something she had never seen with her own eyes. Now though, she had seen scores of her clanmates killed by the unnamed mercenaries raiding the Fields of Life; and to top it off, she had just witnessed the islands' prophesied savior snap and murder her closest friend with almost no provocation.

" _How could this happen?"_ she pleaded to the heavens, halfway expecting some sort of response. Stifling a sniffle, she looked to her right at a tall, young, black and purple-furred wolfess with light purple eyes. Like most of the natives, she wore a silk chest wrap and a white loincloth. The clothing looked awkward on her, however; and even she would have admitted to wanting clothes like her father's.

"Violet, what do I do?" Lilac pleaded.

Violet—Dr. Reige's daughter—gave her a response. Her shy, timid voice rarely lifted above the level of a whisper, and in this case, it was even quieter than usual. "Stay away from her until tomorrow. She regrets what she has done. For right now, though, she needs her space."

Lilac nodded and patted her friend on the shoulder. "You always know what to say."


	42. Dark Fox Rising

**Arc VIII: Gratuitous Fanservice Island**

 _Part 3: Dark Fox Rising  
_

A faint knocking sound roused Rena from her sleep. For many people, the night after a harrowing event tended to be one filled with unrest and a general lack of sleep. For her, this was not the case. She slept like a proverbial baby, with no unpleasant dreams to be found. So, for that reason, being awakened immediately brought a frown to her face. The instant she opened her eyes, the memories of the previous night assaulted her with newfound force.

" _Oh fark. What did I do?"_

Of course, she already knew the answer to her internal question. Sitting up and putting her feet on the wooden floor of her veranda, she listened as the knocking sound continued. She knew what—or more specifically who—was behind it.

Rolling her eyes, she stood up, then paused for thought.

" _If Lucas was right, I have to change something. Lilac is really pissing me off, but I have to do something different than what I've been doing."_

She signed, then walked towards the door. Thanks to her despondency the night before, she had not bothered to change out of her combat gear. Upon reaching the door, she took a deep breath.

" _Am I really going to do this?"_

She unlocked it and pulled the door open. As she predicted, Lilac stood outside. However, as opposed to the innocent, mirthful expression that usually graced her face, abject fear covered her features. Rena even perceived her body trembling ever so slightly.

For the first time since she could remember, Rena took pity on someone. She realized that her own treatment of Lilac had reduced her to a shaking ball of fear and apprehension who deserved better.

"G…Good morning," the younger vixen stuttered. "C…Can I get something for you?"

Rena gave no response. Instead, she stepped forward and threw her arms around Lilac, wrapping her in an embrace that caught her off guard. "I'm sorry. I'm a horrible person," she whispered into her ear. "Will you forgive me?"

For a moment, Lilac stood stock-still, petrified and shocked by Rena's action when she had witnessed her kill her closest friend just hours ago. However, as the reality of Rena's contrition set in, she relaxed her body and patted the yellow vixen on the shoulder. "I think I can do that," she whispered back.

After a few more seconds, Rena released Lilac from her grasp and stepped back. The younger vixen stared at her with a bewildered expression, creating an awkward silence that she broke with a quick question. "Is there something I can do for you this morning?"

"Nah. You can check on Fox and Scarlet if you want—although you'll definitely want to knock first, because…oh fark, why did I think of that?" Sticking her tongue out in revulsion, she walked out the door past Lilac and turned towards a nearby path leading into the forested area outside the village.

"Where are you going?" asked Lilac.

"I'm going to visit the doctor again."

"Be careful," Lilac urged her, concern appearing on her face.

"Oh, he's not that bad. He's insane, but not dangerous."

As she entered the wooded path and left Lilac at the entrance to her veranda, Rena vigorously brushed herself off, not because there was anything to clean up, but because the act of hugging Lilac and trying to sympathize with her caused her to repulse in disgust. Yet, at the same time, finding some sort of absolution with her host warmed her icy heart somewhat.

" _Maybe Lucas was right. Maybe everybody else would be more tolerable if I tried to care about them."_

The long, descending path led her back to the mishmash of materials that the doctor lived inside. This time, instead of forcing the door and walking in unannounced, she stopped at the top of the steps leading to the front door and knocked. A set of ponderous footsteps reached her ears seconds later.

The doctor opened the door and frowned when he saw Rena.

"Have you come to insult my experimentation yet again? I assure you that I will have no further tolerance for such behavior. If this is the reason for your untimely visit, I shall procure my weapon of projectile dispersion and bestow the curse of lead poisoning upon your anorexic frame!"

Lowering her head, Rena replied, "No, I'm not here for that. I'm here to…" she paused, dreading the words she intended to speak next. "…say that you might be right."

"Aha!" Dr. Reige exulted. "I knew you would come around eventually. Pray tell, what has elucidated your stubborn brain-attic in the short time since your last visit?"

"I'd prefer not to talk about it," Rena mumbled, keeping her head down.

"I see. Well, I shall perform an act of simple deduction to determine the answer to this most vexing question." He placed his fingers on his muzzle and looked upwards in thought. "Considering that you seemed close to that jackal fellow—Lucas, I believe his name was—and that he is not at present with you at the moment, I am led to believe that something may have happened to him that caused you to change your mind. My first intuition—and my first intuitions are usually right—is that he could have moved the potted plant with his mind and simply chose not to as not to frighten you. Your domineering personality would imply that doing such a thing could impair his relationship with you, and thus, he might have refrained from showcasing his telekinetic abilities in my presence."

He continued, much to Rena's chagrin. "I notice that the fur below your eyes is matted, and your eyes themselves are tinged with red. This would imply the presence of a great quantity of tears. You do not seem like the crying type, so anything that could induce such an influx of emotions must have been quite severe indeed. Considering that you seem to be constantly enraged with something and the fact that you've been carrying that monstrous sword ever since I saw you, I conclude that you must have killed or grievously wounded the jackal in a fit of misplaced anger. You monster."

Rena nearly broke down in tears on the spot, but the shock of having the previous night's horrific deed dictated to her kept her from crying. "But…how did you know?"

Dr. Reige crossed his arms and gave her a smug grin. "My daughter told me about it. She was watching, you know."

Rena's eyes flared wide. "Oh fark! No! I thought we were alone!"

"It would appear not," the lupine replied. "But now, the deed has been done. I do, however, appreciate your apology, and I accept it, as it appears sincere."

At this, Rena finally did break down in tears. With a sniffle, she forced herself to look into Dr. Reige's blue eyes. "Thanks. I know you'll probably say no, but can you tell me what the Fields of Life do now?"

The oversized wolf looked back at her with a death stare. His canine teeth poked out from his gums, and his nostrils flared. Then, as soon as his expression changed, it returned to its normal state. "Under one condition."

"What is it?"

"That the knowledge of the Fields does not reach beyond these islands; at least, not more than it already has."

In response, Rena nodded.

Dr. Reige paused for breath and looked distrustfully at his yellow guest. Nonetheless, he chose to explain his secret. "The Fields of Life are where a certain rare flower grows. My term for it is _crystallinus herba_. This particular flower has abnormally strong medicinal qualities, in that after being crushed and prepared in a special way, it imparts remarkable sustaining effects upon whoever eats or drinks it."

"What do you mean by 'sustaining effects?'"

"What I mean is that it extends the life of whoever imbibes it. Have you wondered why the natives look so youthful, or how I can have a child at the age of 72? Indeed, some of the people here are over three hundred years of age!"

"Whoa! What?" Rena balked.

"Indeed," said Dr. Reige. "In fact, I'm due to celebrate my 89th birthday in a matter of months; and I feel as spry as I did when I was thirty. The flowers that grow in the Fields of Life are the secret to long life. Now, please, do not try to pick them. The natives would flay you alive—and I do not exaggerate. Also, the flowers can have profoundly negative effects if not prepared correctly, so I would advise that you restrain yourself and keep away from the Fields of Life. Now you know why it is that the Cerinians despise outsiders: they are trying to keep the flowers a secret." He turned away, a dark frown appearing on his face. "But I am afraid that it has been a futile endeavor."

"How so? Because you told me?" asked Rena.

"No," Dr. Reige growled, anger in his eyes. "Because my colleague and his two associates betrayed me and laid bare the secret. Sixteen years ago, just after my daughter had been born, a vessel landed upon this very island. I was the first to meet the crew, seeing as I wanted a way to return to my home in Corneria. How shocked and astonished I was to find that the boat was crewed by my very own contempory in biological engineering, Dr. Bowman! He claimed that he had learned about a mysterious plant on the islands, and he implored me to help him research it. I thought nothing of it. He was my colleague and friend. I thought I could trust him. But nothing could have been further from the truth."

He stopped speaking and looked like he was about to kick something. "The bastard betrayed me. He brought a number of armed men with him to the islands, and after I had explained the details regarding the Fields of Life and the nature of Cerinian telepathy, he held me and the natives at gunpoint and then proceeded to round up all of the most powerful Cerinians that he could find. He…he took my dearest Agatha from me. He left my daughter without a mother. It is my deepest desire that I exact my revenge upon him for what he did, wherever he is now. After he captured the natives, he boarded his boat with his two associates—that blasted white bear and the evil bird—and left me on the islands to face the wrath of the Cerinians. The natives tried to execute me for betraying their secret. It was only because Lilac's mother intervened that I was allowed to live."

Rena narrowed her eyes. Admittedly, she felt little sympathy for the man. After all, he had given away information to Andross. Still, she did feel anger towards what had happened to him. "If it makes you feel better, Andross is dead. Corneria got wind of what he was doing and exiled him to Venom."

"It does little for me," Dr. Reige admitted. "Even with him gone, my dearest Agatha can never be returned to me. I dare not think about the sort of things he intended to do with her after he ripped her from my hands."

In response, Rena tried to look sad as a way of commiserating with him, but grief for others did not come naturally to her. The doctor noticed her lack of genuineness and said, "Do not feel sorry that you do not share my grief. You can only understand this pain when you have experienced it yourself."

"But Lucas is dead," Rena frowned.

"Tell me this: did you draw blood when you attacked him last night?"

Rena paused for thought, then replied, "No. It was like he just vanished."

A glint appeared in Dr. Reige's eyes. "My dear, I don't think your friend is dead."

* * *

 _-_ § _-_

* * *

On the south side of the island, not too far from Dr. Reige's dwelling place, Fox and Scarlet lounged on the beach underneath the overhang of a rocky cliff that jutted out over the waves. The rock formation above them had the effect of blocking out the searing midday sun, and a warm sea breeze whistled through the oceanic air. Thanks to them having traveled to Cerinia almost immediately after spending time in Titania, neither of them had any swimwear on hand. Scarlet wore Lilac's spare clothes as a substitute, while Fox stripped down to his boxers.

Lilac sat next to Fox and looked out at the ocean while Violet attempted to ride the waves on a makeshift surfboard. Considering that the pieces of wood that passed as her board looked rudimentary at best, she surprised both Fox and Scarlet with her ability to stay on the board and not be overwhelmed by the ocean.

Glancing upwards at the rock formation that shielded them from the sun, Fox commented, "That's quite a cliff. I don't think I've seen anything like that where I'm from."

"Oh really?" Lilac replied. "A lot of us learned to cliff dive by jumping off that ledge."

Fox's eyes opened slightly wider. "That's at least a hundred feet up. That can't be safe."

Lilac shrugged. "Eh. If you have the right technique, you'll be fine. I've made that jump three times, and I'm still here." She glanced towards the ocean and watched Violet surf before she nudged Fox and looked him in the eyes. "May I ask you something?"

"Sure. What is it?"

A far-off look materialized in Lilac's eyes. She looked at the horizon and asked, "What's it like living out there, away from these islands?"

Fox scratched the back of his head. "That's a lot for me to answer. It's…complicated. Things are a lot simpler and more peaceful here. "

"I figured that much," said Lilac. "Sometimes I get tired of how quiet it is on this island. That's what my sister thought, too. She left the islands before I was born. I never got to meet her. I would never tell Mother or Father this, but I envy her sometimes."

"I don't think you should," Fox replied, shaking his head. "It's a different world out there, but I wouldn't say it's better. It kind of depends on your viewpoint."

"My viewpoint is that I want an adventure. That will never happen here. I want to ride in the giant flying bird you arrived in. I want to explore the rest of the world and learn about its cultures. I want to romance someone who isn't blue." She took a deep breath and admitted, "Don't tell anyone, but I'm…attracted…to Violet because of that."

Fox returned a knowing look. "That's nothing to be ashamed of. That sort of thing isn't that unusual where I'm from."

"It is here. The people won't tolerate that kind of behavior. If I'm honest, I'm trying to treasure the last fifteen months before I reach adulthood and have a mate chosen for me."

"Your parents will pick a husband for you, I'm guessing?"

"That's right," Lilac sighed. "It may have worked well for them, but I can't see myself living with any of the boys on this island. You know, that's the real reason my sister left the islands years ago."

A thought occurred to Fox. "What was your sister's name?"

"Krystal," Lilac replied.

Both Fox and Scarlet's eyes went wide. "Uh, Lilac," Fox whispered, "I think I might know her."

"What?"

Reaching for his phone on the beach next to him, Fox dusted if off and unlocked the home screen. "I'm going to call her and see if she answers."

Seated next to him, Scarlet rolled her eyes and looked towards the ocean in time to see Violet fall off her surfboard and be flattened by a breaker.

Fox opened his contact list and scrolled down until he reached 'Krystal.' He hesitated for a moment, then pressed the call button. Holding the sat-phone to his ear, he waited until the call connection noise subsided.

A familiar voice came through his phone's speaker. _"Hello? Fox?"_

"Hi, Krystal. It's nice to hear your voice again."

Scarlet rolled her eyes for a second time.

" _It's nice to hear yours too, you handsome devil. What do you need my help with this time?"_

"Well, I don't need your help with anything right now, but I just wanted to let you know that I might be sitting next to your sister."

" _I don't have a sister,"_ Krystal replied in a deadpan voice.

Fox looked askance at Lilac. "Not to get too personal, but were your parents' names Neron and Hyacinth?"

Krystal gasped. _"Oh, blazes! But, how do you know that I have a sister? Are you on the islands right now?"_

"Yes, and they're beautiful," Fox replied.

Unexpectedly for him, Krystal hissed back, _"You shouldn't be there!"_

"Why not?"

" _Because…well, because it's not safe for you there!"_

"True," Fox agreed, shrugging his shoulders, "After all, the islands have been getting raided by bandits for the past week and it's my team's job to put a stop to it."

Tense breathing emanated from Krystal's end of the phone. _"You have to be joking. Why would they…? Oh no. It's the Fields of Life. How did they find out?"_

"Beats me. We've been trying to find out why they want them so badly. Think you could explain it?"

Krystal responded with panic in her voice. _"No, Fox—I can't. Please, don't press me or anyone else about the Fields. You weren't meant to know about them."_

"But these bandits do, and I have to make sure they're stopped," Fox stated.

" _I agree, but if I tell you the secret, horrible things will happen. Trust me—it's for the best that this stays under wraps."_

Fox frowned and dejectedly looked at the sand in front of him. "If that's the way you want it, fine."

Krystal sighed. _"If she's really right next to you, can you let me speak to my sister?"_

Glancing at Lilac out of the corner of his eye, Fox cupped his hand over his phone and whispered to Lilac, "Krystal wants to talk to you."

The younger vixen's eyes lit up.

Fox uncovered his phone and told Krystal, _"I'll put her on right now. Here you go."_ Then, he handed the phone to Lilac.

Having not used such a device before, she awkwardly raised it to her ear and whispered, "Xocce?" She used her native language as a way of proving that the Krystal on the other end of the line was indeed a blue-furred fox.

Krystal replied in the same tongue. _"Hello. What's your name? Fox tells me that you're my sister."_

"I'm Lilac. I was born after you left the islands."

" _I_ have _been gone for a long time, so I can see how that's possible,"_ Krystal replied. _"Are Mother and Father okay?"_

"They're doing all right. They miss you so much, though."

Sadness reflected itself in Krystal's voice. _"I know they do. I shouldn't have ever left."_

"Really?" asked Lilac, "Ever since I heard what happened to you, I've wanted to leave the islands and explore the rest of the world, like you."

A long, deep sigh came through the phone's speakers. _"Lilac, if I can give you one piece of advice, it's this: don't do what I did. Stay where you are. The grass is not greener on the other side of the ocean."_

"What do you mean by that?"

" _Oh, I'm sorry—that's a figure of speech the people use where I live. What I'm trying to tell you is that I live with the regret of the decision that I made all those years ago. A lot has changed since then, and there's no going back for me."_

"What do you mean? You'll always be welcome here! Mother and Father would cry tears of joy if you came back to the islands."

" _Listen, Lilac. I can't do that. I can't run from what I've done. In my hunger for adventure, I started something that I do not have the power to stop. But I have to face the consequences of my actions and do everything I can to make things right. I have to finish what I started, even if it means that I never see the islands again."_

Lilac lowered her head in grief. "I wish I understood."

" _I wish I could tell you the truth about what I have become."_

"There's something I want to tell you, Krystal," Lilac whimpered.

" _What's that?"_

"I love you. Mother and Father love you too."

Through the phone, Lilac thought she heard her sister crying. _"Tell them…Tell them I love them, too. You as well, Lilac. I hope I get to see you someday. I really do. But don't count on it."_

Lilac's ears fell, but a sense of optimism still managed to pervade her voice. "If the winds of fortune managed to bring the Great Yellow One to our islands, then I believe you'll come back one day."

Krystal's sadness seemed to disappear in the blink of an eye, and shock replaced it as the dominant emotion in her voice. _"What? The Savior actually came? Oh…wait a minute…"_ The excitement in her voice vanished, making way for derision and scorn. _"I'm sorry, Lilac. I know who that person is. She isn't the Savior. She's just an angry Digimon cosplayer with a pizza cutter. I really hope you and the others haven't been worshiping her."_

"Are you serious? It was all a farce? How could this be? And what is this 'pizza?'"

" _It's not important,"_ Krystal replied. _"Look, it was nice to talk to you, Lilac, but I have to go now."_

"I understand. Goodbye, Krystal."

" _Goodbye."_

Krystal hung up, and the call went silent. With a quiet, disappointed sigh, Lilac handed the phone back to Fox and said, "I wish I hadn't bothered."

"Why? Did she say something mean to you?" asked Fox.

Lilac shook her head. "No. She said she's not coming back here. That, and she told me the Great Yellow One is just an angry woman with a pizza cutter."

Scarlet turned in her direction. "I could have told you that, but I didn't want to crash your party. You seemed pretty excited about Rena being here."

"It was all a lie," Lilac muttered. "I feel so betrayed." She stopped, then stared at the ocean. When she spoke again, her voice faltered. "I'm so afraid. She was going to protect us next time the pirates came to raid our Fields. What's going to happen now?"

A sympathetic look worked its way onto Fox's face. Placing a hand on Lilac's shoulder, he said, "You don't have anything to worry about. My team will protect you and keep the bad guys away from your Fields."

Lilac was not nearly as strong a telepath as Krystal, but her mind still managed to pick up traces of Fox's thought patterns. Amidst them, thoughts of Fyvve, the invincible supersolider, reached her mind and sent chills down her spine. She nodded as a courtesy to Fox, but on the inside, she feared the worst.

She feared that nothing could hold back the coming storm.

* * *

 _-_ § _-_

* * *

Night fell over the islands. While the rest of the team slept, Falco and Miyu took up positions on the same hill that Fox and Scarlet had occupied the night before. Like then, the horizon remained empty of all but moonlit waves. To pass the time in the absence of any activity, the two took to playing an extremely makeshift game of checkers, using a tree stump as a board and leaves as game pieces. Falco carved out lines in the stump to mark the game's boundaries.

"King me," said Miyu.

Falco threw up his hands, inadvertently creating a gust that scattered the green game pieces across the board. "Dammit! I'm telling you, I'm gonna win one of these games soon! I can just feel it."

"You were 'feeling' it three games ago. I'd say it's not working out that well for you," Miyu replied with a grin.

"Well, fine," he huffed. "New game?"

Miyu rolled her eyes. "Sure. A glutton for punishment, huh?"

"No. I'm really going to win this time."

Miyu shook her head and laughed. She started rearranging the leaves on the board, but decided that she could wait a little while longer to start another game. After all, she and Falco still had six more hours of sentry duty to complete. Leaning back, she looked at Falco and posed a question.

"So, Falco—what do you think of the team so far?"

The avian stroked his beak in thought. "It's alright. Everyone except Fox is weird, though. Well, wait, you're not weird. Actually, you're the only 'normal' one other than him."

"I'll take that as a compliment," said Miyu.

"You should. I kinda like that."

"Same here. I can't really relate to anyone on the team other than Fox, but I can relate to you for some reason. I really hope you decide to stick around."

Falco shrugged. "Hey, not my choice, baby. I've gotta prove myself to Fox so he'll keep me on and start giving me a paycheck. I'll be real: since my friggin' awesome jet is in a million pieces in the Venom Desert, I'm gonna be out of work for like, months unless Fox makes me an _official_ team member."

"I'll help you any way I can," Miyu offered. "I'm not really sure how I can do that, but I can put in a good word for you. Fox trusts me, you know."

"I can see why. You're not cray-cray like Slippy and that yellow bitch…" Instinctively, he looked over his shoulder to make sure that a rogue pizza wheel was not about to fly in his direction and decapitate him. Luckily for him, he saw nothing. In fact, after the previous night, he saw almost nothing of Rena. A plus, he thought. He rubbed the metaphorical sweat off his brow and said, "Phew! You see what she does to me?"

"Yeah, I've learned that the best way to deal with her is to shut up and stay as far away as possible. She seems to be less bitchy if you leave her alone and try not to press one of her five thousand hot buttons."

Falco rolled his eyes. "Why has Fox not fired her, again?"

Miyu mimicked his optical gesture. "Because she was his first teammate, and also because he's afraid that if he fires her, she might swear vengeance on him or become a terrorist, or something like that."

"You know what? That's a legit reason, right there. I'm friggin' serious. She's dangerous," Falco insisted, pointing his feathered index finger for emphasis.

"I'm not going to disagree. But man, she can be really…"

"PMS-y?" Falco opined.

"I was going to say 'moody,' but I'll go with that," Miyu giggled.

For a moment, Falco looked off to the side, where he laid eyes on the beach where Rena and Lucas had their altercation the night before. Then, he glanced back at Miyu. "So, uh…I kinda had an idea. How about after we kick some pirate ass here and save the islands, I take you to a sweet restaurant and then go see a movie with you?"

Miyu looked at him with a dumbfounded expression. "Are you asking me out?"

Imitating Fox's nervous tendency, Falco scratched the back of his head. "Uh, yeah?"

The feline hardened her expression and stared at Falco. For seconds, she kept her gaze trained on his nervous eyes. Then, she smiled and laughed. "Tell you what: instead of repeating Fox's failed date with Miss T&A, save yourself some cash—order a pizza and play Call of the Battlefield with me at my place."

"Holy shit, you are awesome! I am totally down for that!"

Miyu shrugged. "You know, my ex was really big into living the 'luxurious' life. Caviar, expensive sports cars, black tie parties…yuck. It all made my skin crawl. I think keeping it simple is way more fun."

"Heck yeah. Nothing's more simple and fun than playing Call of the Battlefield. What's your handle?"

Blushing, Miyu answered, "Um… 'XxKinkyLynxxX.' I've been playing for awhile. I swear I've matured since the time I came up with that name."

"It's better than mine," Falco mumbled under his breath.

"Oh really? What's yours?"

Falco glanced off to the side and whispered, "XxXL3G1T360N0SC0P3Z420XxX."

"Hehehe—classic," Miyu snickered.

"Shut up. I made that tag when I was 16, okay?"

"Wow, you've been playing for that long? That's dedication right there."

"Well, you know, I really am into CoB, and…" he trailed off, his attention drifting elsewhere.

"What is it, Falco?"

The avian looked up and pointed to the horizon. In the distance, he thought he saw something metal. "Let me check this out," he said, reaching for the battle rifle propped up against the checkerboard stump. He raised it to eye level and stared through the scope.

"What do you see?" asked Miyu.

"I see a rusty-looking cargo ship, with SAMs and AA guns on the deck," Falco replied. "Those must be the pirates." Lowering the gun, he told Miyu, "Go wake the others up. I'm gonna camp up here. This is a perfect sniping spot."

The feline cocked her head and raised an angry eyebrow.

"What? You think I'm trying to get out of this? No way, baby! I was born for moments like this. Go, get the others up! We've gotta be ready when they hit the beach!"

Shaking her head, Miyu followed Falco's orders and sprinted down the long hill leading back down to the village. A moment later, she set foot on the cobblestone path that flanked most of the small huts. She considered knocking on every one of her teammate's doors, but she had an idea that would rouse them far more quickly.

She reached for the pistol on her hip, aimed it upwards, and pulled the trigger.

A number of 'whump' noises emanated from the nearby huts. Rena was the first to emerge. Decked out in her combat suit, she dove through her veranda's front door and rolled on the ground outside before coming to a stop in a crouch. The yellow vixen tiredly opened her eyes and shrieked, "What the fark was that for?!"

"The mercenaries are attacking! We have to stop them!" said Miyu.

"Finally, something to kill," Rena grumbled. "Where are they coming from?"

"They're coming from the bay on the other side of the island. It's just one boat, but there's no telling how many people there are."

A moment later, Slippy waddled out of his hut while rubbing his eyes. He wore a lemon-lime bodysuit that most people would have claimed he had no right to own.

"Eye burn!" Miyu screamed.

"Shut up!" the amphibian protested, walking towards Rena and Miyu. "This suit's got everything a commando needs for any mission: clips for extra mags and grenades, three gun holders—one on the back and two on the sides, a bulletproof chest plate, and most importantly, extra pockets for rations." To illustrate the point, he dug into one of the pockets and extracted a brown ration bar, which he bit into. The instant the food hit his tongue, he went bug-eyed and spat it out on the ground next to Rena.

"Eww," said Rena.

Despite the gravity of the situation, Miyu struggled not to laugh. Her mood stabilized a moment later when Fox and Scarlet emerged from their hut. Fox wore his standard dark gray military fatigues, while Scarlet covered her body with a breathable purple and black catsuit with an oceanwater pattern. However, lightweight composite armor covered most of her vulnerable spots, creating an outfit that fit the hot climate while offering her a moderate level of protection from bullets.

Fox spoke first. "I'm guessing the mercenaries are about to land. Where's Falco?"

"He said he's going to camp out at the lookout point and snipe from there," Miyu replied.

The vulpine rolled his eyes at first, but he then remembered that Falco claimed to have taken marksman training at one point. "He'd better be on point, or it's not going to be looking good for him."

Internally, fear gripped at Miyu. She dared not announce it to the group, but she did not want Falco to leave or be kicked out.

While the team assembled, scores of armed Cerinians marched out of their huts, carrying spears, staffs, and bows. Neron and Hyacinth joined them and moved to the head of the group. As much as Fox appreciated their desire to help defend their homes, he had half the notion to tell them to lay low and let his team take care of the problem. However, a grim thought calculus suggested that the natives would be exceptional distractions even if they were able to do virtually nothing to stop the mercenaries from raiding the islands.

He had no time to waste, though. Motioning to his team, he waved them onwards and jogged towards the distant beach. The group traveled down the trail that led to Dr. Reige's house, except that when the road forked, they took the path to the right. As they neared the beach, the group of Cerinians following them broke into a sprint and forced their ways past Fox and his team.

The trees lining both sides of the path came to an end, spitting the team and the natives out into a clearing filled with long, green grass. As Fox entered the open space, he looked over his shoulder at the distant overlook where Falco waited with his rifle. But a far more important detail demanded his attention. An eighth of a mile up ahead, the large cargo ship dropped anchor and deployed three small dinghies loaded with mercenary troops, ten on each boat. The small motorized vessels sped towards the shore. As they did, the mercenaries at the front of the boats opened fire on the natives sprinting towards them. Several of the blue-furred foxes dropped to the ground, dead.

Fox looked at the rest of the team and pointed towards the jungle that flanked the left side of the open space. The group entered the woods while moving towards the mercenaries, crunching over bushes and fallen leaves.

Despite having already lost three of their warriors, the Cerinians continued their charge unabated. The few bluefurs who had bows took aim and launched a cluster of arrows towards the boats. Two of the arrows hit home, killing one soldier and causing another to fall overboard and capsize his group's boat.

All the while, Fox led his team through the forest, nearing the shoreline. Stopping behind a silver boulder roughly three hundred feet from the beach, he ordered his teammates, "Split up and start shooting whenever you see an opportunity."

Miyu, Slippy, and Rena darted off, leaving Fox and Scarlet to camp behind the rock. The two foxes leaned against the boulder and aimed their rifles through a gap in the trees ahead. In spite of the tree leaves that threatened to block their views, they noticed that they had a clear shot at the soldiers who had fallen out of the boat and were swimming towards the shore.

Both of them opened fire on the hapless troops, peppering the ocean with lead. Thanks to them being clustered in a group with no way to move quickly, all but one of them fell to Fox and Scarlet's bullets.

"Multi-kill," said Scarlet, a grim smile on her face.

Seconds after she spoke, a flash of light erupted from the deck of the transport ship positioned a hundred yards out to sea. A single warhead streaked upwards on an arc, then descended towards the beach as the Cerinian troops raced out to meet the invading boats. The RPG exploded against the sand with a mighty force, sending five Cerinians flying to their deaths and creating a crater in the beach.

In the heat of battle, Fox reached for his short-range communicator and pressed the button on the side. "Watch out, team! They've got a guy with a missile launcher on the boat! Falco, can you do anything about that?"

" _Yeah, I'm trying to line up the shot! He keeps moving. This is a lot harder than it looks. Hold on…"_ a second later, the distant report of a high-caliber rifle echoed across the beach. _"Splooge!"_

"Did you get him?" asked Fox.

Falco chuckled into his radio. _"Hehe—his head exploded like a friggin' watermelon. That was awesome."_

Fox shook his head and turned his attention back to the beach as the remaining soldiers beached their boats and jumped out, spraying lead at the furious natives who ignored the gunfire and swarmed them at point blank range. Several more Cerinians dropped dead, but the remaining bluefurs surrounded the soldiers from the second boat and ripped into them with their spears and staffs.

While the second boat's soldiers struggled against the natives, the group from the final boat forced their way through the wet sand at the edge of the tide and took aim at the conflagration to their left. Their comrades struggled against the mob of blue foxes. A series of gunshots rang out and another Cerinian fell to the ground, but the savages snuffed out the offending soldier, effectively turning his gun into an expensive club. All the while, the remaining soldiers stared helplessly, unwilling to fire on their comrades and unwilling to move closer for fear of being sucked into the melee.

Fox, Scarlet, Rena, Slippy, and Miyu all seized upon the opportunity to strike. Bullets whizzed out of the forest from multiple angles, catching the remaining mercenaries off guard while they huddled in a group. From his distant perch, Falco fired off three shots for good measure. The troops turned and fired towards the woods, but their shots had no effect. One after another, they all dropped dead as the Cerinians finished stabbing, impaling, and eviscerating the troops from the second boat.

A minute passed, and all became silent. No motion came from the larger boat anchored a hundred yards from the shore, and no additional troops appeared. As the ringing in Fox's ears subsided, the familiar calming sound of the ocean waves filled them. Glancing at Scarlet, he walked out of the woods and entered the wide clearing near the beach. When he walked out of the trees, he looked to his left and saw Slippy, Miyu, and Rena step out as a group.

Together, they walked across the beach towards the group of Cerinians. Neron and Hyacinth stood at the head of the group with blood splattered against their blue fur and purple skin. Despite being unable to communicate with their guests in any way, their expressions and their body language radiated a spirit of gratitude.

Still, something seemed wrong.

Turning towards Miyu, Fox commented, "That was too easy."

The statement struck the feline as worrying. "Was Fyvve one of those guys? Do we even know what he looks like?"

Fox felt a shiver run down his spine. He knew that if the allegedly invincible supersoldier had been part of the landing crew, dispatching the group would have been far from simple. At that moment, he felt compelled to look towards the transport ship lying off the shore. He saw no one on deck, but he had a sinking feeling about what—or more specifically, who—may have been lying in wait onboard.

"Do you think Fyvve is on the boat?" asked Scarlet.

"That's what I'm thinking," Fox replied.

Raising an index finger, Slippy raised his obnoxious voice and said, "I know what to do: take off with the chopper and blow it up with our missiles. It'll be easy."

Frustration in her voice, Rena shook her head and snapped, "Hey, Pond Scum—you see those SAMs on the deck? Good luck getting forty feet off the ground before those things fark up our only way off these islands."

"Crap. I didn't see those."

Looking away from the group, Fox groaned and rubbed his neck. "Looks like we only have one option—we have to board the boat."

The rest of the team—and the few Cerinians with the mental ability to discern their thoughts—froze in fear. "But, why?" asked Miyu.

Fox pointed to the large boat in the harbor and answered, "Look—that boat isn't going to leave unless we make it. If it stays here long enough, Fyvve and whoever else is onboard are going to come out at some point. So, basically, we're going to have to deal with him personally whether we like it or not. Also, since that boat has missiles on the deck, we can't leave until we deal with it. Sorry team, but now is the best time to take action."

To drive the point home, he reached for his handheld radio communicator and spoke into it. "Falco, get down here. We're boarding the boat."

" _I was afraid you were going to say that,"_ the avian grumbled. _"Fine. I'll be down in a few minutes."_

While Falco traversed the terrain leading down to the beach, Fox stepped through the wet beach sand until he reached one of the mercenary dinghies. Thanks to the fact that none of the others had any desire to board it, he turned it around by himself, nearly stumbling and face-planting into the foamy ocean breakers that rolled in over his boots.

Acting like he was not annoyed by his teammates' lack of assistance, he turned to face the team, as well as Neron and Hyacinth. He glanced at the group of Cerinians and pointed to the dinghy with a questioning gesture. Neron and Hyacinth shook their heads immediately. Fear covered their features. They knew something, and Fox knew just what that was.

"All right, then. It's just going to be us, then," he halfheartedly told his teammates as Falco materialized as a small blue dot several hundred meters farther inland.

"Don't we have a rocket launcher or something?" Scarlet begged, concern in her voice.

Slippy raised his finger again and offered a suggestion. "We could take one of the missile pods off the helicopter, but it would be too dangerous to fire manually. We'd need to build a remote firing rig—which would mean taking more pieces out of the helicopter, and that would mean that it would take a long time to put it back together, and doing that would be really, really hard, and then it might completely fail and leave us stranded here forever."

While the rest of the team stood in frightened silence, Falco trotted up. "So, what did I miss?"

"Nothing, Featherbrain," Rena growled. "All you missed was Boy Wonder here suggesting a plan that would destroy the boat but leave us stuck here for the rest of our lives—or until Fox can convince General Pepper to pick us up."

"I'm a grown man!" Slippy shrieked back with a voice that sounded like it came out of the larynx of a prepubescent teenager.

"Not with that voice, you aren't."

"Enough, enough!" Fox snapped. "We are boarding that boat, and I don't care if none of you like it! Fyvve has to be stopped. We are not leaving these islands until he's dead. Got that?"

Everyone else let out a collective sigh of resignation and suppressed despair.

Fox rolled his eyes. "Look—Fyvve might be tough, but he's not immune to bullets. Just stay close, and if we run into him, we'll all pump him full of lead at the same time. There's no way he can survive that." He stopped and looked at Rena. "Say—where's Lucas? I haven't seen him all day. After what he did with the missile launchers in the Titanian base, we could really use his help right now."

Rena froze in fear, her mind spinning into action to weave a tale that would prevent Fox from learning about what had happened the previous night. "He tried to…copulate…with me," she said with a disgusted voice. "I told him to fark off."

The last part was true, at least.

"I'm not sure I believe that," Fox replied, crossing his arms.

"Well, it's what happened, so don't get mad about it."

"Fine," Fox relented. "Everyone, get in the dinghy."

Reluctantly, Falco, Slippy, Miyu, and Rena climbed aboard the small boat while Fox fired up the outboard motor mounted to the back. After half a minute of cranking, the engine started, and Fox guided the dinghy towards Fyvve's cargo ship. As the boat bounced over the waves, he looked over his shoulder at the group of Cerinians standing by the shore. To his dismay, he noticed Hyacinth making what appeared to be gestures of divine supplication.

" _That doesn't bode well. They know Fyvve is on the boat."_

After a minute of sailing, Fox brought the dinghy to a stop next to an extended rope ladder that hung from the top of the cargo ship's main deck. Noticing his teammates' lack of interest in moving, he said, "I'll go first."

Placing his hands on the ladder, he pulled himself up until he reached the top of the boat and swung his legs over the side and onto the main deck. He half expected one or two mercenaries to show themselves once he set foot on the boat, but his fears were unfounded. No sound came from the cargo ship. Glancing over the side, he watched as Scarlet climbed the rope ladder after him, followed by Falco, then Slippy, then Rena, and finally Miyu.

When the entire team set foot on the deck, Fox whispered, "Break up into groups of two. I'll stick with Scarlet and search the cargo hold. Falco, you and Slippy search the stern of the boat. Rena and Miyu, you check the perimeter and see if you can find a way into the bridge. Maybe Rena can hack into it or something."

Concern in her voice, Miyu asked, "What do we do if we find someone? And by someone, I mean Fyvve."

"Shoot them," Fox answered. "If anyone here hears bullets, head to the source of the noise immediately. Got that?"

The rest of the team nodded.

As per Fox's instructions, the six broke up into groups of two. Falco and Slippy jogged towards the distant rear portion of the boat where scores of shipping containers sat, while Fox and Scarlet darted down a nearby set of stairs leading towards one of the cargo hold entrances. Alone near the front of the boat, Miyu let out a nervous sigh and looked at Rena. "What's the plan here?"

"There's no one up here," the yellow vixen replied. "But there's a good chance we'll find something in the command bridge. Let's check it out."

Miyu refused to admit it, but she felt petrified. She noted that even the ever-stoic Fox seemed rattled by the specter of Fyvve; and if he had reason to be afraid of their enigmatic foe, then she had every right to be scared speechless. Halfheartedly, she trailed Rena, who pulled out her compact submachine gun and crept towards the looming command bridge that towered forty feet above the deck. The two women navigated between shipping containers, looking for any signs of a threat until Rena came to a stop next to a door in the side of the bridge's lowest level.

"Are you going to throw a flashbang in there after you open the door?" Miyu asked, fear in the eyes, her voice, and her frazzled fur.

In response, Rena turned around and rolled her eyes. "Really? And waste a perfectly good grenade while alerting everyone onboard to our location? Are you stupid?"

"No…I'm just really afraid of Fyvve."

"Oh give me a break," Rena scoffed, "I've run into these kinds of people before. They love to talk themselves up and make themselves sound invincible. Nine times out of ten, it's because they're actually weaklings who go down after one good punch in the face. Now, stop being a princess and follow me."

She gave the startled lynx no chance to protest. Reaching for the circular door latch, she rotated it until it unlocked. Then, she nudged the door open and inched into the bridge. Inside, the two found themselves enshrouded by darkness, punctuated only by the light from the cracked door behind them. That is, until it slowly creaked shut on its own to the point where it closed completely and blocked out all traces of light. Rena let out a grumble and turned around to pry the door open again, only to hear the most unexpected of sounds—the sound of a deadbolt slamming against a metal surface. The hollow ringing sound filled the pitch-black room, emanating from the previously opened door. The noise suggested that she and Miyu were inside a rectangular space with a moderately high ceiling and roughly 300 square feet of floor space.

Panic in her voice, Miyu whispered, "What's going on?"

Rena clenched her fists and cursed under her breath. "It's a trap."

That instant, an array of fluorescent ceiling lights flashed on, bathing the room with a searing white glow. Miyu and Rena turned around to scan their surroundings. As Rena inferred from her hearing, the room stretched out for fifty feet in terms of width and sixty feet lengthwise. Numerous concrete pillars stretched from the silver floor to the ceiling. In the corners of the room near the ceiling were…loudspeakers?

As soon as the two laid eyes on them, the speakers roared to life. The sounds of a hit metalcore song erupted from the line arrays with the volume of a rock concert. Miyu's ears flattened as the crushing onslaught of decibels impacted them, while Rena's did the same for an entirely different reason. Namely, as a metal elitist, the sound of generic, popular metal fanned the flames of her fury in way that few other things could.

She gripped her SMG and prepared to fire on the set of speakers closest to her, but she stopped when she looked into the back corner of the room. A man-sized cross-section of the air began to shift, appearing like it was on the verge of melting.

Then, Fyvve materialized. Rena identified him as a fox of her senpai's stature. His pitch black fur matched the charcoal-colored power armor that he wore. A black helmet sat atop his head and featured a dark gray mirrored visor that prevented Miyu and Rena from seeing his eyes. She noticed a black knife sheathed in a holder on his chest, while an unusual-looking black firearm that defied definition hung at his side.

While Miyu trembled in fear, Rena stared at Fyvve with narrowed eyes. To the right, she noticed a short set of stairs and an elevated walkway with a railing that ran along the room's rightmost wall. On top of a small table positioned against the wall, a compact music player sat, wirelessly transmitting the sound to the raging speakers.

Over the sound of the music, Fyvve spoke through a wireless microphone attached to his helmet.

 _"Now is the moment I've waited for – I can't be broken, I'll settle the score!"_

Thinking out loud, Rena muttered, "I am going to paint this entire farking room with your blood, and I am going to enjoy every second of it."

In spite of the insane volume inside the echo-prone room, Fyvve appeared to hear her. He cracked a sinister smile, revealing a single bronze tooth among his other canines.

 _"Be ready, I'm coming for you!"_


	43. Boss Battle Fyvve

**Arc VIII: Gratuitous Fanservice Island**

BOSS BATTLE FYVVE

 _Music: Scream Aim Fire – Bullet For My Valentine_

* * *

Fyvve reached for the mystery gun on his hip and took aim at Rena in the blink of an eye. The yellow vixen dove for the ground and rolled over, coming to a stop behind one of seven concrete columns inside the bridge's lower level. Miyu followed her lead and ducked behind a pillar twenty feet to Rena's left.

Both women armed their submachine guns and waited for the opportunity to strike. Meanwhile, Fyvve pelted Rena's column with bullets, methodically firing off three round bursts to pin her down while conserving ammo.

In spite of her fear of Fyvve and the volume of the blaring speakers inside the room, Miyu knew what to do. While the dark fox kept his eyes on Rena, Miyu poked her head out from behind her cover and opened fire on Fyvve. Several of the rounds hit, but to her dismay, they seemed to have no effect whatsoever. Only the slightest of scratch marks appeared on Fyvve's power armor as the bullets plinked off it and hit the floor.

Fyvve noticed and laughed. Knowing the capabilities of his armor, he made no attempt at hiding behind cover and continued firing. This time, he took aim at Miyu, giving Rena an opportunity to peer out from behind cover and fire on him. The yellow vixen bared her teeth and let a barrage of bullets fly.

Only for them to do the exact same thing that Miyu's did.

"What kind of armor is that?" Miyu screamed.

Rena yelled back, "I don't know! It looks like the kind in the blueprint I swiped from Andross's lab, but it's different somehow! It's making him completely invulnerable! Wait a minute…"

A second later, Fyvve emptied his mag and stopped shooting to reload. His deft hands swept a new magazine out of his utility belt and clipped it into his gun's housing as the spent mag dropped to the ground, but the split second lapse allowed Rena to leap out and charge him. She drew her sword while sprinting and swung it when she came to within six feet of the supersoldier. She knew that no matter how bullet-resistant his armor was, it would not survive a clean slash from her absurdly sharp blade.

Fyvve holstered his mystery gun and whipped his black knife out of its holder on his chest. When Rena wound up and swung her katana at him, he parried the significantly longer blade with his knife. Rena refused to let him take the offensive, even though his ability to rapidly react to her left-handed swordplay stunned her. She turned the blade over and swung from her right, only to clang off the knife's surface yet again.

Anticipating that Fyvve would find an opportunity to strike back, she kicked him in the chest immediately after hitting his knife. The attack did next to nothing. The armored fox moved back approximately one centimeter.

Then, Fyvve uppercut her extended leg with his left hand, causing her to crash land on her back. He thrust his knife downwards to stab Rena, but she thrashed at it with her sword and deflected it before performing a backwards somersault and rising to her feet in one motion.

The two foes stared each other down, while Miyu looked on helplessly, her bullets unable to do anything against the armored vulpine.

Then, Fyvve laughed and said, _"You tried so hard and got so far, but in the end, it doesn't even matter."_

Vindictive thoughts of unspeakable violence raced through Rena's mind. _"Un-farking-believable. Every word he says is a song lyric."_

She narrowed her eyes and lunged towards Fyvve again, but her foe was ready. In a flash, he vanished from her sight, simultaneously tossing down a small, cylindrical object that began emitting smoke the instant it hit the floor. The gray cloud rose and filled over half the room, obscuring Rena's vision and clogging her nostrils with noxious fumes.

Somewhere else in the room, Fyvve yelled, _"Come on, get down with the sickness!"_

While Rena struggled to regain her bearings amidst the smoke, Miyu perceived a 'doubling' effect in Fyvve's words—in other words, his voice came through not only the speakers, but also through the air itself. This clued her into the fact that he was close by. Trusting her ears, she fired off a volley of shots in the direction she believed Fyvve had gone. A series of plinking noises rose above the din of the music being blasted through the speakers, and Fyvve reappeared.

The dark fox appeared to be frantically swapping out components on his gun while using his active camouflage to buy him time to do so. However, despite his armor being invulnerable to bullets, his invisibility went down the instant Miyu shot him. Within seconds, though, he aimed at Miyu with his mystery weapon, which he had somehow converted from an SMG to a combat shotgun.

"Whoa!" Miyu shrieked, sprinting away from the column that she had been hiding behind and running towards another one. Unfortunately, this required heading into the edge of the smoke. She darted behind another pillar, only for Rena to have the exact same idea and plow into her.

Before Miyu could react, Rena gut-punched her three times and karate chopped her in the neck.

"Whoa, stop! It's me!" the lynx yelled.

Rena paused for a moment, realizing her error. "Fark. Sorry. My reflexes made me do it."

"What do you mean by…"

From the other side of the room, Fyvve fired his newly created shotgun at the pillar, which was not large enough to conceal both Rena and Miyu. Several of the pellets clipped Rena in the shoulder, but she felt nothing and figured that the metallic shoulder pauldrons built into her armor had managed to absorb the shots.

The yellow fox leaped for the nearest pillar, while Miyu stayed in place. At that point, the smoke from Fyvve's grenade began to dissipate. Fyvve shot at Miyu again, but the pillar took the brunt of the attack and protected her.

While the armored attacker advanced on Miyu—and her, in a way—Rena's mind shifted into overdrive, burning through ideas of how to deal with the seemingly invincible mercenary leader. Then, one idea stuck out to her. She mentally kicked herself for not thinking of it sooner, as she knew that out of all her options, this one had the strongest chance of succeeding and killing Fyvve with a single hit.

Rena reached for her belt and pulled out her pizza wheel. Pressing the button on the handle, she waited for the blade to spin up to full speed. Then, she leaned out from behind her column, yelled, "Pizahoīru kōgeki!" and hurled it at Fyvve with as much force as possible. The throw was impeccable. The implement sliced through the air, heading for the armored fox's chest. Rena knew that the blade would slice straight through him if she aimed it correctly, and she had aimed it perfectly.

She waited an agonizing half second for the pizza cutter to claim its victim and slice a gaping hole through Fyvve's chest, but something happened that left her in a state of shock so intense that instead of derailing, her train of thought exploded on the tracks.

As the pizza wheel sped towards Fyvve, he casually took his left hand off his shotgun, reached out, and grabbed the spinning pizza wheel out of midair. He timed the catch so perfectly that he caught it by the handle and pulled it in as if he had merely pulled it out of a kitchen drawer. He examined the implement for a second, then chuckled and hurled it back at Rena with herculean force.

She went bug-eyed and hit the deck to avoid the flying weapon, which she thought the Doppler Effect may have applied to. The pizza wheel shredded through the concrete pillar, cleaving it in half before exploding through the back wall and leaving a tiny hole as evidence that it actually had broken through two layers of concrete.

Rena stood up, brushed off her combat suit, and stared at Fyvve with a slack jaw before he aimed his shotgun at her and fired.

"Shit!" she yelled, diving into a roll and sprinting for the nearest pillar. This one placed her near the back wall, painfully close to the loudspeakers in the front left corner of the room. The shotgun pellets bounced off the floor mere inches away from her legs, which, while mostly armored, had several vulnerable points where her joints intersected.

Behind her back, Miyu leaned out from behind her pillar and opened fire on Fyvve with her SMG. This time, she scrapped her idea of aiming for the "high percentage" shot and took aim at the supersoldier's head. Having been focused on Rena, Fyvve spun on his heels, faced Miyu, and covered his face with his arms. Every one of her bullets bounced off his armor. When Miyu ran out of ammo and stopped to reload, Fyvve lowered his arms and bared his teeth.

A single 9mm round rested between his canines. Grinning from ear to ear, he spat out the bullet and laughed, _"You're waking the demon!"_

However, the focus being placed on Miyu gave Rena the chance to think of another tactic.

" _This Fyvve…thing…can't be mortal. He must be another one of those freakish things that Lucas turned into. He farking caught my pizza wheel. That's categorically impossible. How am I supposed to deal with him? I could throw a grenade or a flashbang, but it would hurt me and Miyu too. No, I can't do that. Think, Miyoshi, think! Argh—damn this farking music! I can't take it anymore! I just want to shoot those farking speakers and… Oh, that's it right there! I've got it! The music—it's the source of his power. If I take it away…"_

Rena poked her head out and yelled, "Miyu, draw his fire. Don't stop shooting!"

"But my bullets aren't doing anything!" the feline yelped, as Fyvve pelted her column with another shotgun blast.

" _I'm feeling invincible tonight—I'm alive, take a look into my eyes!"_

Trying to ignore Fyvve's song lyric plague, Rena insisted, "Just keep firing! I only need a few seconds!"

Miyu gave no response, but Rena knew that it was now or never for her plan. With Fyvve's back turned to her, she sprinted towards the short staircase on the right side of the room and bounded up the stairs. She skidded to a stop in front of Fyvve's music player and crouched. Even though the yellow railing that marked the three foot drop to the main floor offered her no protection from bullets, she felt safer by crouching behind it.

While Miyu leaned out from behind her pillar and bounced more bullets off Fyvve's armor, Rena looked at the device Fyvve had rigged up to play his music—his phone. To her delight, it was the exact same model that she used, which meant that the special proprietary cable required to transmit a signal to the speakers would work with her phone. An evil, satisfied grin crossed her lips as she opened her music library and racked her brain for the most brutal, unlistenable song—a composition so abrasive, so harsh, so unforgiving that it would induce an instant migraine into anyone unfortunate enough to be exposed to it. At least, someone who was not "initiated" like she was.

She opened a playlist titled "Mathcore Favs," yanked the cable out of Fyvve's phone, and plugged it into hers. Then, she pressed play. Fyvve's music came to an abrupt stop that lasted a full second before sounds straight from the bowels of Hell burst forth from the speakers. To increase their effect, Rena cranked the volume control up as loud as it would go.

* * *

 _Music: Yippie-kay-yay Mother!#$%^ — The Tony Danza Tapdance Extravaganza_

* * *

The sound of grinding, low-tuned guitars, guttural, tortured vocals, and thrashing drums rocked the room. Rena looked over her shoulder in time to see Fyvve stumble and drop his shotgun. The vulpine covered his ears, but because they were already covered by metallic slits with built-in audio receptors, he failed to drown out the noise that threatened to break the 120-decibel threshold.

Rena hoped that Miyu would take the opportunity to shoot Fyvve in the head while he was distracted, but to her dismay (but not to her surprise), the lynx curled up in a fetal position behind a concrete pillar with her eyes closed, her teeth gritted, and her hands covering her ears. She whimpered in pain, but could not be heard over the sonic explosion that rattled the entire ship's bridge.

In contrast, Fyvve howled as the sound waves assaulted his brain. Clutching his head, he shouted, _"If the pain goes on, I'm not gonna make it! I push my fingers into my eyes!"_ He stumbled around, bumping into the half-column that he had destroyed with Rena's pizza wheel minutes earlier. Virtually every inclination he had to keep fighting left his body.

To add insult to injury, a pause occurred in the song Rena selected, only for it to enter a breakdown defined by guitar chugs interspersed by dissonant riffing that sounded something like a swarm of cybernetic mosquitoes attempting to interbreed with an industrial rotary saw. All the while, the vocalist continued screaming out lyrics declaring himself as a "terrorist lyricist" intent on burning the popular music scene to the ground.

For half a minute, Rena felt content to lean against the wall and watch Fyvve wail and clutch at his face. However, when she looked at Miyu and saw the pain written all over her facial features, she rolled her eyes and decided to bring the fight to a definitive end. Leaping over the yellow railing, she let her knees buckle and somersaulted back into a running position.

She sprinted towards Fyvve and unleashed a flurry of rapid-fire punches to his face, throat, and stomach. The larger fox made a vain attempt at fighting back, but every hit weakened his resolve even further than before. Whereas the music raped Fyvve's ears and all but immobilized him, it drove Rena to hit harder. It fueled her rage, which she stoked even further by dwelling on the hatred she felt towards herself after what she did to Lucas the previous night.

Pinning Fyvve against the back wall, she pummeled him in the chest, then brought her knee up to crush his abdomen before she finished with a violent uppercut that sent one of her foe's teeth flying towards the ceiling. Fyvve all but crumpled against the wall. Only by the smallest iota of strength did he remain standing.

While Rena backed up and reached behind her back, Fyvve wobbled forward and begged, _"Will you swear on your life that no one will cry at my funeral?"_

"That's a given," Rena replied, her voice grim and angry.

Sliding her sword out of its sheath on her back, Rena marched towards Fyvve and closed her eyes for a second. Then, she gave into the rage that she held back from the rest of the world and swung her katana. One slash was not enough. The sensation of her blade slicing through armor, flesh, and bone—it felt euphoric and demanded to be repeated. She swung her blade back and forth at nearly every angle imaginable, tearing through her enemy countless times. Gradually, her physical senses began to numb, and a film of red covered her field of vision until it became opaque.

Finally, she stopped attacking and took a deep, gasping breath. The red faded from her vision as the reality of her actions set in. Taking a wobbly step back, she stared at the ground in front of her. Nothing remained of Fyvve other than a sprawling puddle of blood and bone splinters. His helmet rested in the center of the red pool, its visor chipped and cracked.

Rena clutched at her chest and took several heavy breaths to calm herself. With no one left to fight, her adrenaline began wearing off, and with it, her sadistic combat high. Limping—out of tiredness, not injury—towards the stairs near the right wall, she climbed them and unplugged her phone from the sound system. The pummeling music came to an end, replaced by an eerie silence. She slid her phone back into its holder on her hip. Then, she walked down the stairs and approached Miyu, who looked shaken up, to say the least.

The lynx wandered out from behind her cover as Rena walked up to her. "Well, Fyvve is dead, and the islands are saved. Thanks for your help."

Miyu said not a word. Instead, she stared wide-eyed at Rena for three seconds before she passed out and collapsed on the ground.

Rena raised an eyebrow and wondered what could have prompted her to black out. That is, until she looked down and realized that nearly every inch of her body was covered in blood. "That explains that," she mumbled to herself.

As her hearing returned following the sonic bombardment her ears had endured minutes ago, she perceived a loud knocking sound at the door she and Miyu had used to enter the room. She walked towards the door, and as she neared it, she noticed a button on the same wall. Giving it a press, she let out a relieved sigh when the deadbolt keeping the door latched unlocked itself.

Rena walked up to the door and pulled it open. The image of Fox and Scarlet standing outside greeted her.

As soon as he laid eyes on Rena, Fox covered his mouth and gasped, "Whoa. What happened in there?"

Drops of blood trickled down Rena's hair and splattered against the ground. "I killed Fyvve. You're welcome."

"I…I'm not really sure how to say this, but…" Fox paused, struggling to maintain his concentration while blood literally dripped off of his teammate. "…Um, you know that Fyvve had over two hundred kills to his name, right?"

"Irrelevant," said Rena.

Breathing a sigh of relief, Fox replied, "Well, I'm glad he's gone. I'm sure the islanders will be thrilled."

"Say," Scarlet suggested with a grin, "You might actually qualify as the Great Yellow One now."

Previously, Rena would have snarled and lashed out after hearing such a comment, but after her experiences on the islands, she thought differently. "Yeah, maybe."

"You're not very yellow right now, though," said Fox, stating the obvious. "You should jump in the ocean or something."

Placing her hands on her hips, Rena barked, "Are you farking retarded, Senpai? The sharks will go ballistic!"

Fox scratched the back of his head. "Yeah, I guess I should have thought of that. Oh well. Is Miyu okay?"

"She's fine. She blacked out after I killed Fyvve, though. Do we need to wake her up?"

"I'd say so. We've taken care of all the other mercenaries on the boat, so unless there's someone in the control room, we're in the clear. We need to check that area to see if we can find out who hired these guys to raid the islands."

"I can save you the trouble," said Rena, leaning against the doorway. "East Fortuna hired them. Desmond knew about the Fields of Life, and by extension, so does Rafa. Dr. Reige told me that Andross and Desmond came to these islands awhile ago and picked up that information from him."

"About the Fields?" asked Fox, his eyes widening. "Did he tell you what they do?"

"Yep. He told me everything. But, he also told me not to let the secret leave the islands."

Expectation in her eyes, Scarlet replied, "I can keep a secret."

"All right. There's a certain kind of weird flower that grows on these islands that can make you live for three hundred years if you prepare it the right way. It also makes you look and feel young forever, apparently."

Scarlet's jaw dropped. "Oh, I need that _soooo_ badly. Just think—I'd never need to get plastic surgery. Can you imagine? I'd be able to keep this body until I'm ninety!"

While Rena rolled her eyes and stamped her foot in frustration, Fox admitted, "I was going to say that sounds really shallow, but yeah, that would be pretty amazing."

"I know, right?"

"Unfortunately for you, you're not touching it," Rena replied. "The Cerinians will kill you if you try."

"Party poopers," Scarlet grumbled, lowering her head.

Fox cocked his head and asked, "Well then, how did this Doctor guy get his hands on it?"

"He married into the clan," Rena explained.

Fox let out a frustrated groan. "You know, now I kind of wish you hadn't told me what the Fields of Life are all about. Now I'm going to go the rest of my life wondering what would have happened if I could have gotten my hands on some of those flowers."

Rena narrowed her eyes and lowered her voice. "Don't tell anyone I said this, but there might be some in the shipping crates on this boat."

Fox opened his mouth to reply, but the report of approaching footsteps distracted him. Turning around, he watched as Falco and Slippy jogged towards him, Scarlet, and Rena.

"Dude! You're not gonna believe what we found at the back of the boat!"

Placing his hands on his hips, Fox narrowed his eyes and asked, "What did you find, Falco?"

"We found, like, ten friggin' kegs of booze! Aw man, we are going to have a party when we get back to shore!"

Rena hung her head in dismay. "Fark me."

* * *

 _AUTHOR'S NOTE(S):_

 _Well, that was graphic._

 _All song lyrics are copyright © of their respective owners, used exclusively for entertainment purposes. No profit or monetary gain from their use is intended, and any such gain will not be accepted._


	44. La Revelación de San(ta) Ortega

**Arc VIII: Gratuitous Fanservice Island**

 _Part 4: La Revelación de San(ta) Ortega_

 _or_

 _The Rena Fanservice Chapter_

After they finished scouring the ship for any traces of the mystical Cerinian flowers and any incriminating documents that could be used to tie Fyvve's mercenaries to East Fortuna, Fox and his team returned to shore in the stolen mercenary dinghy. Of course, Falco sailed back out to the cargo ship with Slippy to retrieve the newly-discovered cache of alcohol, which they brought back to the beach.

The instant the dinghy struck land, Rena jumped out and washed herself off in the shallow waves. She would have to clean the salt out of her fur later, but being covered in saltwater struck her as superior to being covered in hardening blood. At the same time, the rest of the crew—minus Falco and Slippy—debarked from the boat and approached the group of Cerinians led by Neron and Hyacinth, who had not left their post for over an hour.

However, this time, Lilac stood among their ranks. The younger vixen walked towards Fox with nervous expectation in her eyes. "Is he dead?" she asked in a half-whisper.

In response, Fox nudged his head to the right, in the direction of Rena as she shook the water out of her fur and armor and walked towards the dinghy. Reaching into the bottom of the boat, she grabbed a special trinket and held it up for all to see.

It was Fyvve's helmet.

The troop of Cerinians gasped. Then, every one of them, including Neron, Hyacinth, and Lilac, dropped to their knees and chanted in unison,

" _Whouk Wectod Nuhhaeh! Wcehaeij Sxact ev Cawxk!"_

"Oh, great. Here we go again."

Rena rolled her eyes and placed Fyvve's helmet back in the dinghy, acting as though she did not notice the group of Cerinians worshiping her. After a full half minute of listening to the natives chant, she raised her voice and said, "Rise!"

Lilac, knowing her language, stood up first, prompting the others to do the same. Then, to Rena's surprise, she charged and threw her arms around her. Whimpering into Rena's neck fur, she exclaimed, "You're magnificent! I'm sorry I ever doubted you! What can I ever do to make you forgive me?"

"You can start by not strangling me," Rena choked out.

Thankfully, Lilac reacted quickly and released her death grip on Rena. While the yellow vixen regained her breath, Lilac walked over to her parents and began conversing with them in her native tongue. After talking for a minute, she turned to face Fox's team and said, "Father has declared that we will have a festival to celebrate our liberation and our great yellow savior. Head back to the village."

Placing a hand on her hip and tilting her head, Scarlet noted, "You know, it's one in the morning. Everybody's asleep."

"We'll wake them up, then. This occasion demands a celebration. Follow me!"

Not giving Fox and his team any time to turn down her invitation, Lilac sprinted back towards the distant village.

Falco walked towards the second dinghy, loaded down with alcoholic barrels. "Hey—everybody grab a keg, okay? They're not _that_ heavy."

* * *

 _-_ § _-_

* * *

With the help of his teammates and the Cerinians, Falco managed to bring all of Fyvve's alcohol back to the village. As the group approached the assortment of small lean-to's and huts, every blue fox on the islands converged on their position, cheering and celebrating the downfall of the armored demon who had terrorized them for nearly a week. Near the center of the village, Lilac threw a piece of wood on a raging bonfire with flames that rose more than fifteen feet upwards.

In the midst of the pandemonium, Falco managed to set the kegs up on a cluster of flat rocks for easy dispensing. However, one problem occurred to him—cups and glasses were in short supply on the islands. While the natives looked on, wondering what the wooden barrels contained, Falco looked around the village for anything that could have theoretically worked as a drinking vessel. Finally though, he gave up and placed his beak underneath the small tap protruding from one of the barrels. He cranked open the small, round valve and dropped a stream of alcohol into his waiting mouth.

"Aw yeah! That's the good stuff! Hey guys—you should totally get some of this."

Fox, Miyu, Slippy, and Scarlet shuffled over to Falco's relative position and looked at him for a moment. Then, Scarlet grinned, approached the keg next to Falco's, put her mouth under the faucet, and opened the tap. After she drank her fill, Miyu and Slippy took turns sipping the alcohol. In doing so, they inspired large numbers of the natives to follow their examples.

Rena had a bad feeling that the festivities would turn chaotic at a moment's notice. Pushing her way through the crowd of blurfurs who turned to worship her as she walked past, she eyed her private veranda near the edge of the village. At this moment, she needed time to herself. The importance of the mission had dulled the internal pain that threatened to consume her after her ill-fated 'mishap' with Lucas. She needed peace and quiet, she needed a place to air out her thoughts, and she needed a bath to wash the traces of blood and ocean water out of her fur.

" _If I don't hurry and get cleaned up, I'm going to have to do a deep fur cleanse later, and that'll strip the dye out of my fur."_

Only Fox knew her natural fur color, and she intended to make sure no one else discovered it. Thanks to her inheriting a gene responsible for giving her a coat of red fur so dull that it looked more like a ruddy beige, fur dye was a necessity—in her eyes, at least.

Looking over her shoulder to make sure none of the adoring natives were trailing her, she approached the veranda's front door and opened it. Inside, candles flickered in the night breeze that came in through the tiny windows in the sides of the building, casting a warm glow on the otherwise darkened interior. Dragging her feet on the wood floor, she unclipped her combat armor and dumped it on the floor in a corner along with her boots. In spite of how little the armor weighed, taking it off gave her a sense of relief.

Clad only in the black and yellow bodysuit that she wore under the armor, she eyed the large, gold-plated bathtub in the back left corner of the small building and wondered how effective the indoor plumbing was. She had a feeling Dr. Reige had somehow been responsible for the more 'modern' amenities in the veranda, because no one else on the islands would have known how to install such things.

She took a step towards the tub, but hesitated for a second and looked over her shoulder at her bed.

It was occupied.

Turning around, she stared wide-eyed at the familiar black and blue jackal seated on the edge of the straw-filled mattress. In lieu of his cloak which Rena had been responsible for destroying, Lucas wore a pair of the white shorts preferred by the men of the island, but seemingly nothing else. Rena realized that she had never seen any part of his body other than his face, hands, and legs below the knee, but the same black-with-blue-accents color scheme defined his torso apart from a thick strip of beige that ran from his upper pectorals to his midsection, tapering off and narrowing the farther down it went.

"Lucas!" Rena shrieked. In a flash, she darted towards the bed and tackled him. Pinning him to the mattress, she yipped and began planting small kisses on his muzzle while licking it every so often. "I can't believe you're alive! I'm so sorry—I won't ever kill you again!"

Laughing as Rena's pink tongue tickled his face, Lucas patted her on the back and replied, "You'd better not. But I'm glad you finally came around." His nostrils twitched momentarily, causing him to flinch. "Whoa…you smell terrible. What happened to you?"

The ecstasy of the moment shattered, Rena sat on her knees and gave her chest area a quick sniff. As expected, the scent reeked of rotting blood, salt, and dirty, wet fur. "Let's just say things got graphic. I was about to take a bath before I noticed you."

"Whew…yeah, you should go ahead and do that. I guess I'll head outside and see what all the noise is about."

Rena sighed, her eyes softening as she said, "N…No—you don't have to go. It's okay. I trust you. I want you here with me. Besides, unless you want to get sucked into a giant, alcohol-fueled orgy of chaos, you don't want to go outside right now."

"I didn't know the Cerinians had alcohol."

"They don't. The blue idiot-in-chief found some kegs on Fyvve's boat and brought them all back here. Seems like the locals love the stuff just as much as he does."

Lucas shifted and sat up next to Rena. He placed a hand on her shoulder and murmured, "Be nice, Rena. He's allowed to be himself."

"Ugh…I guess you're right," she sighed.

A faint smile graced Lucas's lips. "I see you're starting to come around."

"Don't push it, asshat," Rena growled back, although her voice contained enough mirth to make it clear that she harbored no hostile feelings towards him. She smiled, but when she caught wind of her own repugnant scent for the second time, she stood up and walked towards the bathtub. Thanks to a set of solar panels on the roof—definitely the doctor's work—the tub had both dedicated hot and cold controls. She turned both handles, causing a stream of warm water to begin filling the tub.

As the water level rose, she turned around and nervously stared at Lucas. In response, the jackal stood up and motioned towards the front door.

Rena shook her head. "It's okay. I know you won't take advantage of me. You can stay. This just makes me a bit nervous, that's all."

"You don't have to be nervous. I'm your friend," Lucas affirmed.

The yellow vixen glanced at the water in the tub before she pulled down the zipper at the top of her bodysuit and stripped out of it. Turning off the water, she looked at Lucas, feeling ashamed, vulnerable, and embarrassed of her own naked body, which was illuminated by the softly glowing candles positioned around the room.

To her surprise, Lucas showed no immediate signs of arousal, although she noticed a look of mild disappointment on his face. She looked at her legs and realized that his displeasure was likely related to the metallic bracers that she had forced him to activate earlier.

Rena sighed and lowered herself into the bathtub. The warm, deep water reached to her neck and soothed her instantly, and she allowed herself to go limp. Looking over the side of the tub, she whispered, "You can come over here, Lucas."

The jackal reluctantly stood up and walked across the room, where he spotted a small, palmwood chair and placed it next to the bathtub before he took a seat next to Rena. Feeling that it would improve the mood, he rose to his feet for a moment and plucked three candles from a nearby window. After placing them on the rim of the tub, he sat back down and looked into Rena's ice-colored eyes.

The vixen exhaled, sending ripples through her bathwater. "You don't like my leg stabilizers, do you?"

"I already told you," said Lucas. "You're a beautiful woman. I don't think those ugly pieces of metal belong in your body."

Rena pondered his statement. "You know, I don't like the way they look, either; but I'm not going to remove them, even after my broken leg heals. I'm sorry, but being able to sprint up to thirty miles an hour, jump five feet straight up in the air, and fall off a three-story building without taking damage… It's a tough drug to kick."

Lucas shrugged and let out a sigh. "When you mention it that way, I can see where you're coming from."

Silence filled the room for a moment before Rena submerged herself completely in an effort to make sure that her facial fur was purged of the foul scent that pervaded the rest of her body. After lifting her muzzle and taking a breath, she leaned against the slanted back of the tub and looked at Lucas with the most vulnerable set of eyes he had ever seen from her. "Lucas, when you say that I'm beautiful, do you really mean it? Be honest. I'll try not to get angry if you've been lying."

In response, the jackal ran a gentle hand through Rena's wet hair. "I meant every word. Why would you ever doubt that?"

"Because I've never _felt_ beautiful," she said. "When I was younger, I wanted people to look at me, but no one seemed to care. I've always been like I am now—thin, short, flat-chested. Unattractive. Guys lined up for my bitch of a sister, but the only attention I ever got was from the creeps who were just desperate for a chance at love. I hated myself. I could never make myself good enough for anyone worth having, so I just gave up. It's how I got where I am now."

Lucas took a quick glance at Rena's bust and replied, "Your chest is big enough. If you ate more and put on a bit of weight, I'm sure you'd fill out pretty quickly. But I wouldn't want you to do that. You have amazing muscle definition, and your reflexes are incredible. You'd lose those things if you tried to put on weight. Your body is perfect for what you do."

"Thank you," said Rena. "I'm ashamed to admit it, but I don't like Fox's girlfriend because she has what I've always wanted, among other things."

"Amazing T&A?" asked Lucas. "Well, look at it this way, Rena: it's not all sunshine and rainbows for her. You realize how much she stresses about her image, right? She's getting close to thirty, and that's when things will probably start going downhill very quickly for her. I sense a great deal of insecurity in her thoughts. Not only that, but I can tell by her body type that if she didn't train on a regular basis and eat an extremely selective diet, she would be overweight in weeks. You don't have those problems, and you might never have them." He stopped for a second before adding, "Finally, it's true that she does get a lot of attention, but a lot of it is the kind of attention she doesn't want. I know she tries to make herself look like she loves that attention, but trust me—it gets old after a while. The bottom line is that you're about as close to perfect as you can be, and you shouldn't try to change that."

A small tear leaked out of Rena's eye. "I don't know how to say this… I've just… I never…"

"It's okay, Rena. Just say what's on your mind. It doesn't matter how it comes out."

"I love you so farking much. I don't want to live without you anymore. What am I supposed to do, Lucas?"

Lucas cocked his head. "What do you mean?"

"You're not going to stay with Fox's team forever. You're going to go back to doing whatever it is you do, and I'll still be here and you'll be gone, and I'll be lonely and angry and sad and depressed, and…"

"…Shhh…" Lucas interrupted, placing a finger in front of his lips. While speaking, he dipped his arm into Rena's bathwater and stroked the plush fur that covered her breastbone. In doing so, he circled his fingers around the necklace that she had taken from his 'corpse' and clipped around her neck. Unclasping it and pulling it out of the water, he said, "You can come with me if you'd like. I live a quiet, solitary life in Papetoon, and we'd have plenty of time to spend together. However, I don't plan on going back until East Fortuna is no longer a threat to world peace. So, you'll have some time to think things over."

Rena let out a relieved sigh. "I'll do that."

* * *

 _-_ § _-_

* * *

The morning broke over the Cerinian village. Fox awoke as the sun rose over the ocean and filled his and Scarlet's hut with light. He reached over the side of his rudimentary straw mattress and picked up his sat-phone to look at the time.

0715 hours.

He sat up and yawned, opening his mouth and baring his teeth like most canines did upon awakening. After stretching, he looked to his left at his red bedmate. In contrast to him, she remained fast asleep despite being a notoriously light sleeper. Every few seconds, an undignified snore escaped from her mouth.

Fox laughed to himself and recalled the copious amounts of alcohol that she had consumed the previous night. Before that moment, he had never truly seen Scarlet in a drunken stupor; and while it struck him as hilarious, he had no plans to coax her into repeating herself. Truth be told, he had several visuals in his mind from the previous night that he would have preferred to use brain bleach on.

Shaking his head, he put his feet on the floor next to the bed and stood up. With the islands now free from mercenary invasion, he relished the opportunity to dress himself in clothes that did not feature ammunition clips or bandoliers. While Scarlet continued to sleep, he pulled on a set of olive drab military pants and a solid white T-shirt. He considered stepping outside, but he wondered how many of the natives would even be awake considering that many of them had partied with far more intensity than Scarlet had.

As he moved towards the entrance of the hut, he heard Scarlet stir behind him. He turned around in time to see her open her eyes before she suddenly clamped a hand over her mouth and leaned over the side of the bed. Unable to control her stomach, she vomited on the wood floor and looked at Fox with a pair of sickly eyes.

"Ugh...whoa. I am never doing that again." Her words came out in a slurred fashion that gave Fox an opportunity to laugh at her expense. "What happened last night?"

Fox snickered and played back some of the highlights—or, more likely, lowlights—of the previous night. "Well, you got hammered and probably scarred five Cerinian boys for life. While you were doing that, Lilac and Violet made out in front of Neron and Hyacinth, and Miyu and Falco disappeared into one of the huts together."

"Wow, I don't remember any of that," Scarlet groaned. She paused and looked around the hut for something of interest to her, then asked, "Where are my clothes?"

"The ones in your suitcase or the ones you wore last night? Because I honestly have no idea where those went."

"Ugh, I've got to track those down before we leave. I liked that catsuit."

Fox jogged his memory and suggested, "You know, Lilac might have taken it."

"She's got good taste," Scarlet replied. "I've been thinking about her, by the way."

"Really? How is that?"

"You know how she said she wanted to leave the islands? I was thinking that maybe we could take her with us when we leave. She already knows Cornerian, so it wouldn't be that hard for her to fit in outside the islands."

Fox placed his hands on his hips. "It would still be a big jump for her. She'd need a job and a place to stay. Either that, or someone would have to take care of her."

"I could help her out. I like her, after all. She reminds me of a younger me."

"Pfft," Fox laughed, "Except she doesn't have money and she still has her innocence. Also, remember when you yelled at me for doing the same thing you're suggesting with Krystal back in Katina?"

Scarlet scowled. "Shut up. I'd get up and punch you, but I'd probably throw up again if I did that. _Also_ , remember that Krystal was an _enemy spy_." On cue, she burped loudly and blushed. "What I meant about Lilac is that she has the same drive for adventure that I do. It's what made me the woman I am today."

Fox opened his hands and mused on his response. "I don't think Lilac is going to leave the islands, though. Her parents already had one runaway daughter, and they might give up on life if their only remaining child leaves."

"That's not Lilac's problem. She shouldn't have to settle for a crappy life because her parents have outdated views."

"I'm not going to push her to do anything," Fox replied with a sigh. "I don't think you should, either. When the time comes, she'll have to make that decision."

* * *

 _-_ § _-_

* * *

 _An hour later…_

A quiet knock on her veranda's front door awakened Rena from a state of near-catatonic sleep. She recognized the origin of the knock within seconds.

Lilac.

This time, however, she did not frown or roll her eyes. With a yawn, she lackadaisically rolled out of bed and stood up. She turned around and looked at Lucas just as his eyes opened.

"Good morning, beautiful," he mumbled.

Rena smiled. "I think Lilac needs to talk to me. You can go back to sleep if you want."

The jackal shook his head. "I don't think more sleep is going to happen now. Aren't you going to get dressed before you open the door, though?"

Rena took note of the white tank top and underwear she had worn to bed and replied, "Nah. Lilac won't care. I'm probably wearing more than she is, anyway."

While Lucas set to work getting out of bed, Rena walked to the front door and unlocked it. Cracking it open, she poked her head out and looked at her youthful visitor. This time, however, the younger vixen wore a form-fitting catsuit—the same design as the one Scarlet had worn the previous night, in fact.

"Uh, hey—where did you get that?" Rena asked, narrowing her eyes and fully opening the door.

Lilac looked around nervously and held a finger to her lips. "Shh! I've probably only got another hour before the Red One finds out that I stole it and makes me give it back. It's so comfortable!"

Rena rolled her eyes. "Fine. I won't say anything. What do you want?"

"We're almost finished putting together the preparations for the Crowning Ceremony, and we need you to get ready for it."

"Crowning Ceremony?" Rena clenched her teeth.

"Yes—it's to formally declare you as the Savior of the Cerinian Islands. Please, don't say no. I promise that you'll be glad you went along with it. Really—I mean it."

"What am I supposed to do for this ceremony?"

Lilac put a finger on her chin and thought for a moment. Then, she said, "All you need to do is change into the ceremonial clothes and stand in front of the Cerinian people. Then, the High Priestess will come out and bless you."

Leaning against the doorframe, Rena grumbled, "That sounds kind of creepy."

"I promise that it's not! Really, come on. We need to hurry up. Everyone on the islands is going to be there."

Rena's eyes widened. "That's not unnerving at all. Can you at least let me put some clothes on before I follow you?"

Lilac stared at the yellow vixen's nightwear. "Look—you're going to have to get changed in a few minutes anyway. I wouldn't waste your time. You're decent."

" _A place where you can walk around in your underwear in broad daylight and be considered 'decent?' And I thought I had seen some weird stuff in my time."_ Rena shook her head and glanced back inside the veranda to check on Lucas. She returned her attention to Lilac a second later. "Fine. Just make this quick."

A brisk walk through the village and down the trail leading to the wide, open field from the previous night brought the yellow vixen and the young Cerinian to their destination. Near the end of the expansive field of emerald grass, a wooden platform had been set up at the base of the cliff Falco had used as a camping spot while sniping. Giving the rough-looking scaffolding a bizarre contrast, a gold-plated throne sat in the center of it. White flowers hung from the wooden platform's every surface.

" _Are those the Flowers of Life?"_

A small group of Cerinians worked on the wooden platform, preparing it for the upcoming procession. Lilac paid them no mind and led Rena into a small clearing in the forest nearby. A folding wooden wall leaned against a cluster of trees, preventing anyone from seeing anything behind it. Rena recognized it as something resembling an old-fashioned changing station.

Leading Rena behind the wood paneling, Lilac instructed her, "Go ahead and take your clothes off. I'll get the ceremonial clothes from one of the throne hands. I'll be back in a minute." She turned her back and walked away, leaving Rena to herself.

Grumbling to herself, Rena undressed and peeked over the top of the wooden barrier. As much as Lilac would have assured her that there was nothing to be concerned about, she felt a twinge of unease about the so-called 'ceremonial clothes.' A moment later, Lilac reentered her field of vision, carrying the ceremonial attire. Rena struggled to see it, which did nothing to put her at ease.

Lilac turned the corner and stood next to her, her forwardness causing the yellow vixen to jump backwards a foot. "Whoa—hey, give me some privacy here!"

The younger woman took a step back and held a hand up to her muzzle. "I'm sorry. Did I do something wrong?"

Rena stared into the nearby forest with a look of frustrated exasperation. Putting her hands on her hips, she replied, "Where I come from, it's not normal to barge in on someone when they're butt naked. Also, stop staring at me. You're giving me the lesbian eyes, and it's making me nervous."

"What's a lesbian?"

"It's what you are if you don't stop staring at my mammary glands!" Rena snapped, taking an aggressive step towards her. "Here—just give me the clothes."

Lilac reached behind the portable wooden wall and picked up a duo of metallic garments. She handed the clothes to Rena, who observed them. True to her fears, they seemed designed to show the maximum amount of fur. The totality of the outfit appeared to be nothing more than a gold-plated bra and thong, with trace amounts of silky white fabric attached to the edges. As with the wooden platform underneath the nearby cliff, white flowers decorated the edges.

Rena summed up the 'clothes' in one word.

"No."

"What do you mean, 'no?'"

"I mean that I'm not wearing that. What kind of sick joke is this?"

The blue vixen opened her hands and yelped, "I didn't choose the outfit! Why are you making this so difficult?"

"Because it's ridiculous!" She held up the clothes and scoffed, "This isn't clothing—this is DLC from a slutty beach volleyball video game. I'm not wearing it. Get me something else."

Lilac's shoulders and ears drooped. "Please? It's the only set of ceremonial clothes we have that will fit you. Can't you just wear it for a few minutes?"

Rena curled the corner of her mouth. "All right—I'll wear them _underneath_ something else. But I've got a question: how did the people who made these 'clothes' know that the Great Yellow One was going to be a woman?"

"They didn't. There's a male version, too."

"Let me guess. It's a full suit of armor, isn't it?"

Lilac's ears perked up in surprise. "How did you know?"

For a moment, Rena felt like kicking over the wooden wall next to her and throwing the gold-plated underwear in Lilac's face. "Oh trust me—I've played enough video games to know what to expect when it comes to 'legendary' armor."

Seconds later, a rustling sound reached both Lilac and Rena's ears. A set of soft footsteps rustled against the leaves on the narrow trail leading into the woods before Hyacinth came into view. She walked around the edge of the wooden barrier and stood next to Lilac, just as unfazed by Rena's nudity as she was. Hyacinth glanced at Rena for a moment before she spoke into her daughter's ear.

" _Xihh if! Kxo sohomed aj ureik ke jkuhk."  
_

Pointing at Rena, Lilac replied, _"Jxo nacc dek nouh kxo scekxoj!"  
_

For a moment, Hyacinth stared at the bewildered Rena with a frown on her lips. Then, she looked at her daughter again and said, _"A nacc vadt u hero veh xeh."_ She sprinted out of the forest a second later.

"What was that about?" asked Rena.

"She's going to get a robe for you to wear."

Rena breathed a tense sigh of relief. "That was a close one."

Momentarily, Hyacinth returned with a white robe in her hand. Taking the clothing from her, Rena put on the gold-plated ceremonial clothes before she covered them with the robe. The instant she finished dressing herself, Hyacinth and Lilac led her out of the forest and back towards the wooden platform. As she stepped out into the open, she looked to her right and saw hundreds of blue-furred foxes standing in the field in front of the throne scaffolding. Their number exceeded seven hundred, and she wondered if every Cerinian on the islands had arrived to pay tribute to her.

Lilac motioned for her to ascend a short flight of stairs to the top of the platform, and she complied. From the top of the platform, she was able to see the assembly more effectively. She noticed Fox, Falco, Slippy, Miyu, Dr. Reige, and Lucas standing at the back of the group, hundreds of feet away from the throne. Strangely though, Scarlet seemed absent.

Rena inched towards the golden throne in the center of the platform, which was covered by a wooden arbor decorated with the same white flowers that seemed to cover every other surface on the platform. Meanwhile, Lilac climbed the stairs at the side of the stage and spoke to her clanmates while Rena looked on, clueless as to what she was saying.

" _Ketu, no uho xoho ke socorhuko eih juclukaed uk kxo xudtj ev kxo Whouk Wectod Nuhhaeh, nxe tojkheot kxo tuhbdojj nakx u jeidt kxuk jxeeb kxo meidkuadj. Fcoujo mubo nu oj eih Xawx Fhaojkojj—Agur-Dhalva, kxo Udsaodk Edo—uffheusxoj."_

The group of Cerinians let out a collective nervous gasp and split into two groups, creating a narrow aisle in their ranks.

At the back of the group, a person-sized pocket of air shifted and morphed. For a moment, the specter looked like a whirlwind of black dust before it settled on a singular form—a black-furred vixen with blue accents and a single stripe of blue in her jet-black hair, which fell to her waist. Her overall figure appeared youthful, but the regality with which she held herself suggested someone who had lived through multiple generations and accrued enough knowledge and wisdom to humble even the most adept scholars. She wore a single garment—a loose, flowing black cloak that covered one of her shoulders—and a large, blue stone sat between her eyes. Rena squinted to see it and realized that it had been embedded in her skull.

As the black vixen walked through the throng of stunned Cerinians, they bowed before her until every single one of them fell to their knees at the point when she reached the platform where Rena waited. The shadowy fox climbed the steps at the side of the platform, her bare feet making no sound whatsoever. As she reached the top of the scaffold, Lilac covered her heart and fell to her knees in reverence.

Rena dared to look into the High Priestess's eyes as she approached her. The ancient vixen stood four inches taller than she did, but she tried everything in her power to avoid feeling intimidated. The priestess stepped to within four feet of her and stared into her soul with a pair of piercing, blue eyes that seemed to possess a haunting, glowing aura. Behind her back, Lilac looked at Rena and pleaded with her eyes for her to kneel before the ancient matriarch.

Realizing that the High Priestess may have had the same powers that Lucas did, Rena reluctantly knelt in front of the vixen. Immediately after her knees touched the wood platform, the priestess reached down and touched her shoulder. As she did, the sound of a ghostly whisper entered her ears—except that the whisper sounded like a ghostly chorus of disembodied voices swirling in a whirlwind.

" _You still have much to learn, my child."_

Under any other circumstance, Rena would have snapped at anyone who dared to call her 'child.' In this case, however, something about the frightening yet calm internal voice of the ancient vixen imbued her with traces of matriarchal love and adoration. The priestess reached for Rena's hand and lifted her to her feet. The throng of native Cerinians looked on, but Rena felt as if they had disappeared and that the only people around were her and the priestess.

The matriarch turned around and faced Lilac, who picked up a wreath with white flowers woven into it. She handed it to the black vixen with a subtle curtsy, then stepped back. As the islands' occupants stared at the procession, the priestess placed the wreath on Rena's head and telepathically told her, _"You may sit on the throne."_

Rena obeyed without a word and took a seat in the gold-plated chair. She surveyed the hundreds of natives in the field before her as the priestess walked to the center of the platform and announced,

" _Kxo udsaodk fhefxos aj den semfcoko. Roxect—kxo Whouk Wectod Nuhhae."_ Turning to the side, she pointed at Rena.

The group of Cerinians in the field rose to their feet, then bowed repeatedly and chanted,

" _Whouk Wectod Nuhhaeh! Wcehaeij Sxact ev Cawxk!"_

" _Kxo Fhefxojaot Julaeh! Nehkxo ke ro nehjxaffot!"_

Out of the corner of her eye, Rena thought she saw the High Priestess suppress a giggle. As the Cerinians bowed in perfect synchronicity, the yellow vixen cracked a faint smile. _"You know what? This is the life. I think I could get used to being a goddess after all."_

A devious idea occurred to her. She had a feeling it could upset the High Priestess, but she felt unable to resist the temptation to act on it. Rising to her feet, she held up her hands and shouted, "Worship me harder, you savages!"

This time, the priestess burst out laughing. She clutched at her chest before she locked eyes with Rena and thought-spoke, _"I have something else to give you."_

Rena's eyes followed the priestess's robed form as she walked towards the side of the stage opposite Lilac and picked up a wooden bowl that had been placed on a pillar. She walked back towards Rena and approached the throne. Extending her hands, she gave the bowl to her and said, _"Drink."_

Rena grabbed the bowl and stared at its contents. It looked like a translucent, milky fluid with small, white petals that floated on its surface. In seconds, a realization dawned on her.

" _No way! They're letting me have that crazy medicine!"_

Trying to avoid appearing overzealous, she lapped up the strange drink. The fluid had a flavor resembling honey mixed with mint and cane sugar. It struck Rena as one of the sweetest-tasting things she had ever experienced, but it lacked the unpleasant syrupy sensation that often came from drinking overly-sweet beverages. After emptying the bowl, she set it down next to her and licked her lips.

Realizing what she had just consumed, she raised a fist in the air and half-jokingly declared, "I am immortal!"

* * *

 _-_ § _-_

* * *

Meanwhile, at the back of the procession, Fox stood next to Falco and watched Rena as she finished the bowl given to her by the High Priestess. His eyes grew wider, and his ears stood up.

"Did they just give her…?"

"Give her what?" asked Falco.

Fox realized that he had not mentioned the secret of the flowers to Falco, while also realizing that it would be to his advantage not to ever let him in on it. "Oh, uh, nothing. It's nothing."

The avian gave him a crooked glance. "You sure made it look like it was something, Einstein."

"Einstein? Who's Einstein?"

"A most prodigious physicist, responsible for popularizing the general theory of relativity and the study of gravitational waves," an eccentric voice called out. Fox looked to his left as the imposing Dr. Reige walked towards him. "While my own field of expertise is in bioengineering, I did manage to devote a small amount of time to studying his works."

Miyu gawked at the wolf with exasperation written on her muzzle. "Dude—wrong universe."

"I do not understand the nature of your criticism, miss," the doctor replied, a frown tugging at his face.

Fox held out his hand to the wolf and said, "You must be that doctor Rena was telling me about."

"Yes indeed, I am he," Reige replied while shaking Fox's hand. "While it is not surprising that I have not made your acquaintance until now, I am glad that our paths have crossed at this moment."

Fox broke his handshake and crossed his arms. "And, uh, why is that?"

"Because you possess a way off these blasted islands and a means by which to return to civilization." He leaned forward and clenched his hands together in a pleading gesture. "Please—take me with you! I've been trying to leave ever since the unfortunate day on which I arrived, and now I believe that my metaphorical seafaring vessel has finally come in."

"Whoa, nerd alert," Falco muttered, moving away from the group.

Narrowing his eyes, Fox turned to directly face Dr. Reige. "I'll consider it, but I don't need more baggage than I already have. Where do you plan to go if I help you leave the islands? Do you have any family that you need to take with you?"

"Well, yes—there is my daughter, Violet. I assure you that she will cause no trouble for you or your associates. As for me, I desire to return to my home nation of Corneria, where my former colleagues will hopefully accept me back into their ranks."

"Oh." Fox's eyes softened. "We're from Corneria ourselves. We have to fly to Titania to pick up our cargo plane, but once we do that, we'll be heading back to Corneria City. In that case, I guess you can tag along."

Dr. Reige lifted his hands and exulted, "Yes! Praise the heavens! I will be free again!"

Fox glanced at the lupine before he felt a tickling sensation on his right shoulder. Spinning on his heels, he came face to face with Scarlet, who had chosen to wear Lilac's borrowed clothing in lieu of her missing catsuit. Her breath still reeked of alcohol, but it appeared that her hangover had subsided to a manageable level.

She looked into his eyes and asked, "Did I miss anything?"

Fox chuckled and pointed at Rena, seated on her golden throne while her subjects worshipped her. "It looks like Rena is officially a god now, so there's that. Also, you were right—Lilac took your catsuit."

"What?!" she looked towards the wooden platform several hundred feet ahead of her. Lilac stood on the left side of the scaffold, and when she spotted her, Scarlet's eyes honed in like a pair of blue-tinted laser beams. Flattening her ears, she screamed, "Give me my clothes back, bitch!"

From the stage, Lilac heard an angry voice in the crowd and turned towards it, only to see Scarlet sprinting down the aisle between the two groups of worshippers. Screaming, she barreled off the stage and into the nearby forest. Scarlet refused to let her escape and pursued her until both of them disappeared from sight.

The chaos near the stage interrupted the natives' worship of Rena; and within a minute, the assembly began to break up. The High Priestess stood near Rena and looked out at the field below the wooden stage. Amidst all the other Cerinians, she spotted Lucas. She locked eyes with him, then subliminally beckoned for him to approach her.

While the Cerinians dispersed around him and his team, Fox felt a vibration in his pocket. He cursed the poor timing of the call, but he pulled out his phone nonetheless and looked at the caller's number. This time, he recognized the extension.

Motioning to Miyu, Falco, and Slippy, he said, "Hold on, guys. I'll be back in a minute. I've got to take this call."

He sprinted towards the nearest section of forest and swiped the 'answer' icon on his phone screen before raising it to ear level. "Hello? Fox here."

The familiar voice of a certain mercenary husky resonated through his sat-phone's speakers. _"Damn—I can't believe how long it took me to connect this time. Where are you?"_

"Believe it or not, I am on the main island in the Cerinian Archipelago," Fox replied. "You're lucky I activated my satellite phone, or you wouldn't have been able to reach me at all."

" _Whoa, man. I am legitimately jealous. What's it like there? How are the women?"_

Fox rolled his eyes. "Of course you would go there. Well, look at it this way: if you're into blue, you'd love it here."

" _They're all blue?"_

"Yep. Blue, purple, aquamarine—all the ocean colors, really. There are a few black ones, but they're pretty rare."

" _Wow. That's…something,"_ Hartmann trailed off. _"If it's not too much to ask, what are you doing on the islands?"_

"General Pepper told us to investigate an SOS coming from there. Turns out that a crew of freelancers was raiding the islands. We took care of them last night, and we've been celebrating with the locals ever since."

Hartmann's voice suddenly took on a serious tone. _"Fox, tell me: these mercs—do they have any ties to Papetoon?"_

"Yes. We found links to a dockyard in a beach town called Cuidad del Sangre. We raided their cargo ship and dug up all the details that they weren't clever enough to hide. Why is that important to you?"

" _It's of vital importance to me, Fox. Check this out: Xav and I did some deep digging while I finished healing up from my incident in Titania. I'm mostly better, just so you know. Anyway, we discovered the existence of a massive freight train that runs from Cuidad del Sangre in Papetoon all the way into Macbeth."_

"And why is a freight train a problem?"

" _The problem is that it's way too big for the area it serves. It's the longest train I've ever seen or heard of. It routinely pulls loads so massive that when the cars are all connected, the train is over three miles long. Every other week or so, it makes a run from Papetoon to Macbeth. It's anyone's guess as to what's in it. Here's the thing, though—Cuidad del Sangre is a pisshole. It's a frontier town whose only source of order is a single, half-crazed lawman who used to be a movie star in Titania. There is absolutely nothing of value in that town, and yet, a three-mile-long train starts there, right at the shipyard. Tell me, Fox—did the mercs you dealt with have any ties to East Fortuna that you're aware of?"_

"I'm pretty sure that's who they were working for," Fox answered.

" _Then what were they trying to raid from the islands? If East Fortuna is involved in this, I bet whatever those mercs were after is what's on that train. I have a hunch that this train might be nothing more than a covert shipping operation as a way to smuggle contraband into East Fortuna using independent mercs and shell corporations. If Corneria and the other COMMERCE nations can't detect it, they can't stop it from entering the country. So, what's on the islands that East Fortuna might want?"_

Fox felt a knot forming in his throat. "Hartmann, I'm not sure I can tell you that."

" _Fox, this is a matter of national…no—worldwide—security. Tell me now."_

A sigh escaped Fox's mouth. "There's a certain kind of plant that grows here. It's a white flower that can be used for medicinal purposes. If it's prepared the right way, it can make people live longer."

" _How much longer?"_

"Some of the natives here are over three hundred years old."

A gasp came from Hartmann's end of the phone. _"Fox, do you realize the implications of this? Quick—open your phone and put me on speaker. Do you have a picture of the old Ortega family? If you don't, I can message it to you. Lucas sent it to me, and he might have done it for you, too."_

"I've got that photo. Hold on," Fox replied. Placing Hartmann of speakerphone, he opened his photos and scrolled through them until he found the black and white image of the Ortega family. His eyes focused on the veiled, corset-wearing figure of Christina Ortega in particular.

" _Okay, Fox—look at Christina. Follow me here: she's allegedly 150 years old. If East Fortuna, Andross, or hell—anyone—had discovered those immortality flowers a while ago, they wouldn't be a secret today, because someone's always around to leak out valuable info. But it's obvious that this was a recent discovery. And by recent, I mean within the last twenty years. So, where do you think I'm going here?"_

"I follow you. What you're suggesting is that Christina knew about these flowers a long time before East Fortuna did. Even if the flowers were first discovered thirty years ago, that would mean that Miss Ortega would have been 120 at the time, and that's basically impossible."

" _Right. Which means that our friend Christina knew about these flowers—over a century ago. And there's only one explanation for that."_

Fox's breath came out in short bursts. "What?"

" _Miss Ortega is a full-blooded Cerinian. Guess who else is a full-blooded Cerinian. With ties to Macbeth—an old imperial state. With ties to Rafa, and by extension, the Ortega family…"_

"No," Fox gasped. He looked at his phone screen again and pinched it to zoom in on Christina. Except this time, he no longer saw Miss Ortega.

He saw Krystal.

He dropped the phone on the ground and clutched at his head. "No! This can't be happening!"

Thanks to the call being on speaker, Hartmann continued unabated. _"I'm all but convinced that your blue friend is the mastermind of all your misery—the mastermind of the political and military chaos that's sweeping the globe right now. Your old team is dead because of her. Rafa turned on you because she persuaded him to do it. Titania is about to flip on its alliance with Corneria and side with Macbeth and East Fortuna because of her meddling. And to think, she was under our noses this entire time. We even had her captured, and if you and Xav had let me have it my way, she would have been dead by now!"_

"I can't believe this," said Fox, picking up the phone.

" _Just to confirm, let me ask you one more question. Do you know if Krystal is allergic to fur dye?"_

Fox bit his lip. That very second, a brief flashback from Katina played in his mind.

* * *

 **" _Everyone stares at me anyway. It's part of the curse of having naturally blue fur and being allergic to one of the main ingredients in fur dye."_**

* * *

"Hartmann, yes—she's allergic to it. Do you think that explains what people said about Christina's allergy problem?"

" _I'm convinced of it,"_ the husky replied. _"My theory is that the reason she was almost never seen back in her heyday was because she didn't want to wear the red fur dye that she was probably forced to use in order to blend in with the society of Imperial Macbeth."_

"It's all falling into place now," Fox groaned. "But, there's one thing that doesn't make sense about all this."

" _What's that?"_

"Krystal—Miss Ortega—helped me steal the blueprints for the Arwing and Landmaster. She even appeared to Scarlet as Christina Ortega and told her where the Arwing was. She was funding those projects out of her own pocket. Why would she hand those over to me, knowing that I'd probably turn around and give them to the Cornerian Army?"

" _Simple. She distrusts Rafa at this point. Right now, you're her best bet at getting him out of her way. Once he's gone, I would expect her to start treating you very differently."_

Fox sighed and hung his head. "I don't feel like talking anymore. Can you just tell me what you wanted when you called in the first place?"

Hartmann explained, _"So, that train I was talking about? My plan is to derail it and raid the train cars. At the very least, we'll stop the cargo from ever reaching East Fortuna. However, I could really use some help. I've only got Xav and Vince with me, and I wouldn't be surprised if this train is armed."_

"I see. Well, I've got to take care of some things before I can help you. How soon do you need me to be in Papetoon?"

" _Three days. I'm working on setting up some kind of safe house where we can avoid the kind of rabble that lives in Papetoon. Trust me—it's a rough place. Lucas is from there, you know. The amount of violence in that area is the reason he's a pacifist. Well, mostly. Anyway, I'll call you when I get something set up."_ He paused before asking, _"Do you have any armored vehicles?"_

"I have the prototype Landmaster tank," Fox replied.

" _Damn, Fox. I wasn't ready for that. Yeah, if you could bring it to Papetoon, I think it would help out a lot."_

"I'll see what I can do. It was nice talking to you, by the way. I've just got to process this new information about Krystal now."

" _You liked her, didn't you? I could tell back when we captured her in Katina. You saw something special in her."_

"Yeah, I did. I guess you can't judge a book by its cover." He took a, long, deep breath. "I'll talk to you later."

" _Sounds good, Fox."_

Pressing the 'end call' button, Fox slid his phone back into its holder and held his head in his hands.

" _If I hadn't ever found out what the flowers did, I wouldn't have made that connection. Krystal would still be Krystal. Now that I think of it, that's why she begged me not to ask anyone about the flowers. She didn't want me to know. Why not, though? It's not like I could just track her down and kill her. She's a telepath and would see me coming."_

A realization occurred to him.

" _She didn't want me to know her true identity because she likes me. She wanted to try a relationship—and I would have been happy to oblige her. Damn it all."_

The rustling of leaves snapped Fox out of his miserable trance. He looked up in time to see Slippy jog through the trees and stop in front of him. "Hey—what's the problem, Fox? Are you crying?"

Fox blushed and wiped his eyes. Without his knowledge, two small tears had managed to spill out. "I'm…I'm okay, Slippy. What do you want?"

"We should probably get going now that we're all done here. Since we have to fly back to Titania to pick up the cargo plane, we probably won't make it to Corneria until around 11:00 tonight."

Fox stood. "You're right. Let's move. I'll get Dr. Reige—he says he wants to come with us."

* * *

 _-_ § _-_

* * *

With the Cerinians dispersed, Lucas ascended the stage and walked up to Rena and the High Priestess. Like the natives, he covered his heart and bowed before the ancient vixen until she touched him on the shoulder and allowed him to rise.

"Mother," he spoke.

The matriarch turned towards him as Rena stepped down from her throne and joined the group. _"It is good to see you, my child. I have something to say to you and your love."_ She looked over her shoulder at Rena. _"Come closer, my daughter."_

Rena stood next to Lucas. The black vixen exhaled before placing a hand on both of their shoulders. _"I am grateful that the two of you finally found someone for each other. In this most unlikely of friendships, a rare bond of love has been created."_

Lucas and Rena linked hands and smiled at each other.

The priestess continued, looking into Rena's eyes. _"My daughter, I have one request for you: listen to Lucas. He is wise, and his advice is sound. And one more thing: when the time comes, just act."_

"Huh? What do you mean?"

" _You will understand when the time comes."_ She looked at Lucas. _"My son, I have one request for you: protect Rena. After all, she saved these islands and the people who live on them. Never be afraid to show how much you care about her. You will soon have to face a decision that will affect both her life and the lives of many others. You will know what to do, but it will not be easy."_

Lucas looked at his feet, but he raised his head again and nodded. "I understand."

" _May the Originator bless you and your friendship, and allow it to endure_." After the priestess spoke these words, she disappeared in a whirlwind of black sand.

* * *

 _-_ § _-_

* * *

The team's helicopter powered up for the first time in two days. The blades accelerated until they created a small dust typhoon around the chopper's frame. Slippy sat at the controls, with Fox in the seat next to him. One by one, Falco, Miyu, Slippy, Scarlet, Lucas, and finally Rena climbed aboard. After they had taken their seats inside the helicopter, Dr. Reige and Violet approached the gunship. The towering lupine held his daughter's hand and helped her into the cabin before climbing in himself.

Over a hundred Cerinians stood around the chopper's landing site, including Neron, Hyacinth, and Lilac, who no longer wore Scarlet's catsuit. Most of the natives gathered to say goodbye to their rescuers, grateful that peace had been restored to their islands. Slippy reached for the controls to increase the thrust from the engines, but he looked to his right and held off.

Lilac stood in the center of the cobblestone courtyard that passed as the landing zone. Thirty feet separated her from both the chopper and her parents. She stared at the helicopter in time for Violet to turn towards her and lower her head in sadness. Lilac then looked over her shoulder at her parents. Both of them knew what was on her mind.

The internal struggle reduced her to tears. She crouched in the center of the courtyard and wiped her eyes. All the while, Slippy kept the helicopter on the ground and prepared to allow her to board if she chose to do so.

Lilac knew that Violet could not stay on the islands—she mattered too much to her father. But at the same time, the thought of leaving the islands with her and bereaving her parents of their only remaining child crushed her heart.

She knew what would happen if she chose either of the two options. If she left, she would have freedom. She would be with her best friend. She would get to have the adventure she craved outside the isolated islands. If she stayed, she would be forced into a marriage that she had no interest in. She would be trapped on the islands for the rest of her life, unable to see the rest of the world.

Some would have told her to follow her heart in order to make the right decision, but her heart offered her no guidance. Tragedy in one form or another awaited her regardless of her decision.

She took a nervous step towards the helicopter. Violet looked on hopefully.

She took a second step, but this time, her legs felt as if they were made of iron. At the same time, the memory of her lost sister's words haunted her.

" _Lilac, if I can give you one piece of advice, it's this: don't do what I did. Stay where you are. The grass is not greener on the other side of the ocean."_

The young vixen hung her head. Despite having never met her in person, she held her sister dear to her heart. She realized the truth of her personal experiences and the weight behind her words when she implored her to remain on the islands.

Shedding a tear, Lilac stepped back and looked at the helicopter as it lifted off the cobblestone courtyard and hovered above the trees. Then, it tilted forward and accelerated, heading north over the ocean towards the distant desert nation of Titania.

She watched the gunship shrink in her vision until it disappeared over the horizon, never to return again.

* * *

 _-_ § _-_

* * *

In a dimly-lit command center somewhere in East Fortuna, Rafa Ortega sat in front of a computer screen, scrolling through data detailing the ongoing effort to repel the Cornerian Army from his territory. He read through his staff's reports, hoping to find some sort of consolation, but few positives stood out to him. The Cornerian Army was larger, better equipped, and motivated by East Fortuna's earlier Northpoint attack.

He had been counting on the completion and development of his "wonder weapons" to help turn the tide of the war, but in the previous week, his intelligence sources suggested that both the plans for the Landmaster and Arwing had been stolen and delivered straight into Corneria's hands.

Rafa had a feeling that he knew the party responsible for that.

In addition to that setback, Desmond Moon was dead, and his fledgling nuclear program consisted of a mere five warheads and an advanced—but untested—missile whose design was scalped from a leaked Macbeth atomic energy dossier. The missile itself was considered almost a joke by his nuclear research team, who named it the MOAN (Mother of All Nukes) rocket. Its sheer size and lack of mobility required it to be launched from an easily-targeted silo, although on the plus side, it had the ability to carry a far larger warhead than most missiles could.

He knew he held the keys to one more method to stall the invasion effort and force negotiations with Corneria, but negotiations did not appeal to him. He wanted the land that his imperial forefathers presided over, not a pissant third world rural nation with a sputtering economy and crumbling infrastructure. Now though, with Miss Ortega gone rogue and pulling her funding from his operation, his finances looked grim. He had never been good with money, and running a war effort against a determined superpower was sucking the cash out of his national bank like a macroeconomic vacuum cleaner. Macbeth still provided limited assistance to his cause in spite of international pressure, but he knew it was not enough.

He looked at his keyboard and pounded his desk.

"General, sir."

Rafa looked up at a vulpine lieutenant who stood next to him. The officer resembled him, with a similar dull red fur color and yellow eyes. A native East Fortunan fox, in other words. "What is it?" asked Rafa, trying to conceal the frustration that consumed his being.

"We've lost contact with Fyvve. He hasn't responded in hours. The last thing we heard from him was that a team of mercenaries was waiting on the Cerinian islands for his unit to arrive. They wiped out his troops in minutes."

"Vete el Diablo, Fox, you son of a bitch," Rafa muttered.

The lieutenant took a nervous step back to escape his general's rage. "I'm sorry. I thought you should know about it."

Rafa turned his head and stared at the officer. "Lieutenant, let Dr. Brackett know that I need to see him immediately."

"Yes, sir."

The beleaguered general stared into space as the lieutenant exited the room. Two minutes later, a set of footsteps pattered across the carpeted floor. A chubby cardinal wearing a white lab coat walked into the command room. A pair of rectangular glasses rested at the top of his beak.

"Dr. Brackett," said Rafa.

The avian spoke in a dry, reedy voice that lacked depth and seemed to project an air of general malevolence. "I came as quickly as I could. What do you need my assistance with, General?"

"Do you still have Andross's test subject—the one that escaped from his lab when the Cornerians raided it fifteen years ago?"

Dr. Brackett nodded, a gleam in his eye. "Yes, indeed I do. Never would I allow something like that to slip through my feathers."

"Excellent. Now, tell me, doctor, is the test subject docile enough for use in an operation?"

"What kind of operation?"

"Military. A targeted assassination of a particular group of pinhead mercenaries working for the Cornerian Army."

The cardinal ruffled his head plumage, then replied, "The deployment of Test Subject 4 is a risky endeavor. Yet, I believe that enough progress has been made to prevent the subject from going rogue. You must understand: the ramifications of losing control of a weapon like this would be akin to misplacing a thermonuclear warhead with the detonation protocols printed on the side—possibly even greater."

"What are the odds that the subject remains under our control if deployed?"

"80%. A four out of five chance that all goes well."

Rafa nodded. "I want to see the test subject."

Dr. Brackett's eyes widened slightly, but he offered no resistance to his request. "This way."

The doctor led Rafa out of the control room, down a long, twisting staircase that descended deep underground. At the bottom, Dr. Brackett flashed his ID in front of a scanner that verified his identity before he shoved open the heavy, blastproof door at the base of the stairs.

On the other side of the door, Rafa and the doctor entered a concrete hallway, illuminated only by an array of blue-white tube lights mounted on the right wall. Farther down the hall, Rafa noticed a group of laboratory rooms, replete with chemistry equipment, microscopes, and test tubes. None of them seemed to be in use at the moment.

The left side of the hallway was made up entirely of prison cells. However, like the laboratories, they appeared to be empty—all except for one.

Dr. Bracket walked up to the metal bars that separated him from the cell's occupant. He beckoned Rafa to come closer. Together, they looked at the solitary prisoner—a black vixen, with traces of blue mixed in with her midnight coat. She wore a plain, white nightgown, likely for no other reason than decency. For the moment, the prisoner slept with her back against the cell's left wall.

For a full minute, Rafa observed her. In spite of her ravishingly beautiful figure, something seemed 'off' about her. He quickly realized the source of his unease. Her body seemed to lack fur. Instead, it appeared to be covered almost entirely in a leathery skin of sorts. It showcased in minute detail every facet of each muscle and curve in her body, acting as both clothing and a shell for her internal organs—or was 'components' the right word? Rafa struggled to know the answer to that question. The cold artificiality of her appearance struck him as disturbing.

Blue ridges ran down the length of the vixen's body in the shape of veins, pulsating every time her heart beat. Even more eerily, her black, shoulder-length hair seemed to subtly pulsate blue in conjunction with her heartbeat.

"This is the test subject," said Dr. Brackett.

Rafa had no words to respond with, so the doctor made the next move. Reaching into one of the pockets on his white lab coat, he produced a small remote and pressed a button on it.

The vixen's eyes flared open, and Rafa gasped. Her irises glowed with an iridescent neon blue hue that did not belong to anything in the natural world. As her heart rate rose, the blue outlines on her body pulsated with more intensity and vibrancy. She looked at the two men outside her cell and stood up. Her thick tail—made of the same material as her skin—whisked back and forth behind her as she sized up her visitors.

As she stared at him, Rafa noticed an electronic collar embedded in her neck. "That keeps her under control, doesn't it?"

"You are correct," said Dr. Brackett. "Without it, she will become an uncontrollable force, wild and destructive beyond your worst nightmares."

Rafa returned his attention to the vixen and gazed into her eyes. She returned the gesture. But then, something changed in her demeanor. The calm blue in her irises went dark for a fraction of a second, before her eyes and the outlines of her body blazed a hateful, searing orange color. Demonic whispers of violence, spite, terror, and hatred raced through Rafa's mind for a brief moment before Dr. Brackett pressed another button on his remote and caused her to black out.

The vixen collapsed on the ground. The orange traces on her body faded back to blue, and she curled up and slept on the concrete cell floor.

Staring wide-eyed at the test subject and gasping for breath, Rafa demanded, "What kind of monster is that person?"

Dr. Brackett cracked a sinister grin. "Her name is Agatha."

* * *

 _AUTHOR'S NOTE(S):  
_

 _Apologies for the long chapter, but I didn't see another way to make it fit. The way I saw it, there were no good points to split it up. Anyway, that's the end of Arc VIII. Only two more to go!  
_


	45. City of Blood

**Arc IX: A Train to Catch**

 _Part 1: City of Blood_

To say the flight from Corneria City all the way to Papetoon was long would have been an understatement. Thanks to the isolated desert nation being situated on the lower quadrant of the western continent, reaching it from Corneria required crossing half a world of ocean, either to the east or west. Because Papetoon shared a western border with Cornerian antagonist Macbeth, the only way for Fox and his team to reach their destination was to head west, fly across most of Corneria, and refuel in Aquas (at a different airport than the one in the opening arc, of course) before charting a final course to Papetoon. All this occurred after the team dropped Dr. Reige and his daughter Violet off in Corneria City.

As opposed to previous trips, however, Fox had an alternative to flying his team's cargo plane. While sitting in the co-pilot's seat, he glanced at Falco, who looked ready to fall asleep at the steering yolk. A faint grin on his face, Fox slammed his fist against the plane's dashboard, creating a loud 'clang.'

Falco shot bolt upright and screamed his favorite obscene word before he glared at his leader and held up a middle finger. "Hey, screw you, buddy. That's not funny."

Fox tried and failed to stifle a laugh. "But crashing into the ocean isn't funny, either."

"Dude. This plane is so friggin' boring. I have no idea why most airline pilots are retired fighter aces. That's got to be, like, the shittiest job ever for someone who's used to planes that are—you know— _fun."_

"Well," Fox countered, "This plane has a cloaking device, and Slippy's trying to figure out how to mount turrets to the sides."

"Woohoo—that's so exciting," Falco deadpanned. "It doesn't change the fact that it takes five whole seconds for it to do _anything."_

"No—it only takes two," Fox replied.

Falco narrowed his eyes. "It's horrible even when I'm not exaggerating it."

"Hey, but the exciting part is coming up. You get to land soon."

Unamused, the avian looked straight out the front of the plane's canopy. "…In slow motion."

Although he kept a stoic expression, Fox chuckled internally. _"Every time I try to land this thing, it's a white-knuckle thrill ride. I guess that's the difference between me and someone who really knows how to fly these things."_

After ten more boring minutes, Papetoon came into view as a vast wilderness that stretched as far as the eye could see. The place where the land and sea converged looked nothing like most beaches. As opposed to the white or beige sands that defined other seaside areas in the world, dark orange and light red dominated the landscape.

Farther inland, Fox noted the near-complete absence of trees or plants. The entirety of the landmass ahead of him looked like one never-ending, hellish desert, with a color scheme to match. As Falco closed in on Papetoon, Fox recalled stories he'd heard about the locale. Some said that as a country, it was the closest one could get to Hell without dying. Government existed only as an idea, anarchy ran rampant, and violence coated every layer of civilization. Any utilities or trappings of modern life existed only in their most nascent forms, the regulatory requirements for their management and upkeep all but nonexistent.

Even the name of their destination hinted at the foreboding nature of Papetoon. Cuidad del Sangre. Fitting, it seemed. Fox fidgeted in his seat as the shoreline became more defined and a large group of rundown buildings appeared.

" _That's got to be it."_

Miles to the west of the 'city' was a desert airport with a single, massive runway. Even from the air, the pavement looked faded and cracked. According to Hartmann, the security staff at the airport would ensure the safety of the team's airplane while they embarked on their mission to stop the train slated to travel out of Cuidad del Sangre, but Fox had little faith in them. Nevertheless, he had no choice but to take Hartmann at his word.

After a boring landing, Fox and the rest of his team debarked via the plane's rear cargo bay, which contained two vehicles for the upcoming mission. One was the Landmaster, freshly repainted in a blue-over-white color scheme with Fox's red winged vulpine emblem printed on one of the tank's angular 'wings' that jutted out over the rear end. The other vehicle was an olive drab truck, exactly like Fox's personal vehicle except for additional combat armor and a mounted gatling gun in the bed.

Walking down the extended cargo ramp, Fox set foot on the light gray asphalt and turned to his right in time to see a familiar husky, Alsatian, and cheetah trio walking in his direction. With his arms crossed, Hartmann grinned and approached Fox before holding out his hand.

Returning the husky's gesture, Fox shook it. "Nice place, huh?"

"Hey, just thank me that I didn't try to get your hopes up. We've been out here a few times over the years, and Papetoon never ceases to amaze." Hartmann focused his eyes on Fox until the rest of the team—especially Scarlet—emerged from the back of the plane behind Fox. For the desert climate, Scarlet wore a sand-camouflage catsuit made almost entirely out of breathable mesh—all except for the most "sensitive" areas, at least. Naturally, Hartmann's eyes wandered to her.

"Bruno!" Scarlet called out, trotting towards him and throwing her arms around his neck.

While she hugged him, Hartmann squeezed her and patted her on the back. "Well, hello there, Scarlet. Long time no see."

Behind Hartmann, Xavier and Vincent sneered and rolled their eyes.

After Scarlet and Hartmann broke away from each other, Fox took the initiative and asked, "So, what's next?"

Xavier and Vincent stepped towards Hartmann, while the former explained, "We managed to set something up with the guy who keeps an eye on things around here. He says he's got a place a few miles outside of town where we can hunker down and map out a more complete plan than the one we've got."

"There's just one thing, though," said Vincent, in his harsh growl of a voice. "He's in town right now, and he asked us to meet him there before he takes us to his place. So, that's where we're going right now."

"Yeah," Hartmann concurred. "If I were you, I'd leave your tank in the back of your plane until we meet up with him. You did bring it, right?"

"Yes," Fox replied. "Do you need a ride into town?"

Hartmann gave him a sheepish look. "Uh, yeah. Our van's engine bit the dust, and the parts to fix it don't exist around here. Do you have another car?"

Fox looked at Scarlet and handed her the keys to the truck in the back of the plane. She nodded and walked up the loading ramp while Hartmann stared at her backside. After she disappeared into the plane, the husky let out a quiet whistle and asked Fox, "So, how are you two holding up?"

Curling the corner of his mouth, Fox replied, "She says she's breaking up with me after the problem with East Fortuna is solved."

Hartmann returned a knowing expression. "And considering how the Cornerian Army is really starting to push into their territory, it might be solved sooner rather than later."

"I should be happy about that. But I don't want her to leave."

Sighing, Hartmann clapped Fox on the shoulder. "Sorry, pal—I could have told you what to expect with her in the long run. She's bad at long-term relationships."

"I'm sure. But I bet she'll be at your doorstep a week after East Fortuna falls," Fox replied, a hint of spite in his voice.

Hartmann held up his hands. "Hey—don't hate. I'll probably be off the market before too long, you know."

"What do you mean?"

"I want to get married again. Xav and Vince are the ones trying to keep Onyx going, because I just want to retire and start a family before I get too old and it stops working." He smirked. "I'm sure Scarlet would love some more 'alone time' with me—and I would, too—but she's not going past that point. Plus, I want kids, and our species aren't compatible."

"Aha," Fox groaned. "So now I see why she's so into you. She's paranoid that she'll find out she's pregnant, and you being a canid makes that impossible."

"She makes you use protection every time, huh?"

From behind Fox, Rena flattened her ears and snapped, "Shut the fark up! No one wants to hear you talk about that!"

"Thank you!" Xavier shouted from behind Hartmann. "Man, when he starts thinking with his other head, he just doesn't shut up."

The sound of a truck engine echoed from the open cargo plane behind the group. They turned towards it as Scarlet drove the combat truck down the loading ramp and parked it next to them.

"Let's get going," said Fox. "We'll talk on the way into town. Hartmann, you can sit with me and Scarlet in the cab. Someone else can have the last seat in the front, but everyone else will have to ride in the back."

Hartmann glanced towards Xavier. "Xav should get that seat. He's got the most information on the freight train."

Fox nodded. "It's settled, then. Everyone else, get in the back. I'll tell Scarlet not to drive too fast."

* * *

 _-_ § _-_

* * *

Clouds of red dust billowed from behind the truck as it entered the outskirts of Cuidad del Sangre. Rows of dilapidated structures lined the city streets—in reality, a series of dusty paths. Most of the buildings looked over fifty years old, and even the newer ones looked to have been made out of bits and pieces pilfered from other crumbling buildings. Ragged power lines crisscrossed the town, their wires tangled and fraying. Every so often, harsh buzzing sounds emanated from them.

Few people wandered the streets. From the back of the truck, Falco, Rena, Lucas, Slippy, Miyu, and Vincent counted a grand total of five civilians. All of them carried a weapon somewhere, whether that weapon was a revolver, an antiquated shotgun, or a contraband assault rifle.

At the earliest possible point, the truck came to a stop, and Scarlet turned off the engine. The crew climbed out of the truck and stretched before taking a look at their surroundings.

"So… where's this guy we're supposed to meet?" asked Falco. "This place is giving me the creeps,"

Hartmann replied, "About a half mile ahead. He's got an office in town. Keep your guard up and make sure you're ready to fight at a moment's notice. The people around here are the rough type. They won't hesitate to shoot if they think they're threatened."

"Gotcha. Yeah, I think I'll stick with you guys."

Fox crossed his arms. "That's probably the best idea. Everybody, make sure you stay together. Getting separated could be dangerous in this place."

The two teams clustered together and walked towards their contact's distant office. Fox walked alongside Scarlet and Hartmann, while Miyu, Falco, and Slippy followed close behind them. Vincent and Xavier chatted to themselves to Hartmann's right, and Lucas and Rena brought up the rear until Lucas turned to his yellow girlfriend and whispered, "Hey, I'd kind of like to catch up with those guys. It's been a while since I've seen them."

Rena shrugged disinterestedly. "Eh, sure."

The group covered a quarter mile in short order, sticking to the right side of the city's main, dusty road. All of them felt on edge, but Rena in particular felt a twinge of concern. Every local she and the rest of the group passed stared at them with wary eyes, but it felt like the locals' suspicion of her was doubled.

" _It's probably because of this bodysuit and the sword on my back."_

She trailed the group for another eighth of a mile. Then, out of the corner of her eye, she saw something in an alley to her right. She stopped cold and glanced into the dimly-lit corridor, shielded from the early evening sun. A stack of papers rested on an inverted mail crate. Even from a distance, Rena noticed her native language plastered on them. Her curiosity piqued, she quietly broke off from the group and crept into the alleyway.

Tiptoeing up to the stack of papers, she suppressed a gleeful squeal when she identified them as a stash of anime-themed magazines from her native country of Eladard. Kneeling next to them, she sifted through each of the volumes.

"No farking way! These are huge collectibles! This hasn't been in print for over a decade!"

She leafed through the pages, reveling in her discovery that would either add a valuable component to her collection or earn her a large sum of money on a collector's website. Absorbed in the magazines, she did not realize that over three minutes had passed since she had walked into the alley.

The reality dawned on her seconds later. Closing the magazine that she had been reading and gripping the collective stack, she looked up.

Only to see a group of eight dingo bandits standing in the alleyway in front of her. All of them wore tattered, western-themed shirts and jeans. They brandished handguns of various types, ranging from revolvers to automatic pistols with laughably long magazines.

Rena gritted her teeth and looked around for some kind of escape route. Apart from the alley entrance behind her, the only two exits appeared to be the other end of the alley and a narrow space between two buildings that forked off to the left halfway down the corridor.

Her instinct was to reach for the handgun on her left hip or the pizza cutter on her right, but the eight weapons pointed at her stopped that idea in its tracks.

While taking aim with his chrome revolver, the bandit closest to her—the tallest and most imposing of the lot—chewed a wad of tobacco and asked, "What do you think you're doin' here?" Venom dripped from his acidic, gravelly voice that put Rena on edge.

Rena offered no response, except for the narrowing of her eyes.

The dingo leader continued, "We don't take too well to thieves around these parts, and them magazines are mine. Put 'em down, and put your hands where I can see 'em."

With an angry sigh, Rena obeyed and placed the magazines back on the mail crate where she had found them. Then, she raised her hands and took a step backwards.

"Ha—you ain't goin' nowhere," the leader growled before he cracked a faint, sinister grin. "You know, you're a pretty little thing. I'm sure the rest of the boys here have some ideas for things they could do with ya. Ain't that right?"

A series of laughs broke out from the other dingoes, all of whom glared at Rena with hungry eyes.

" _Oh fark, oh fark, oh fark, oh—fuck."_

Knowing exactly what the horde of disheveled desert dwellers intended to do with her, she contemplated pulling out her handgun and opening fire, even if it meant being pelted with enough lead to guarantee the closest thing to an instant death. But even then, she feared that somehow, it would end even more horrifically than if she did nothing.

To make matters worse, the bandits crept towards her, keeping their pistols trained on her head. They started from thirty meters but gradually closed in.

She could not remain idle any longer. At the top of her lungs, she screamed, "Help!"

The leader of the bandits—now only twenty feet in front of her—snickered. "You really think someone's going to help you here?"

Panic shot through every one of her limbs. Her fingers twitched on horror, knowing what was coming but being powerless to stop it. She looked at the dingo leader, then glanced past his unsightly mug at the end of the alley a hundred meters ahead. As she did, an armored jeep skidded to a stop in front of the alley exit. The grinding of pebbles against the off-road tires alerted the bandits, and they turned around.

"It's the sheriff! Run!"

"We're dead meat!"

"I knew we shoulda just shot her!"

The jeep's engine turned off, and an old, grizzled coyote stepped out. He wore a brown cowboy hat, a plain blue button-down shirt with a gold badge on it, black jeans, and crusted, worn-out boots with spurs that jingled every time he took a step. Walking in front of his vehicle, he raised his head and stared down the alley with a pair of piercing aquamarine eyes. A gust of wind ruffled his clothes and tugged at the gray-tinged, rusty goatee that covered his similarly-colored muzzle.

Over the course of three seconds, the eight dingoes turned and ran towards the narrow side street that opened up halfway down the alley. Most of them never made it that far. The lawman whipped two revolvers out of dual holsters and opened fire on the bandits. The bullets struck with punishing accuracy. In spite of his inability to aim down the sights, every shot hit home. One after another, the dingoes fell to the ground, either writhing in pain or bleeding out on the spot.

The leader, however, escaped the barrage of bullets and made a break for the side street. Kicking up his feet, he darted into it and escaped both Rena and the Sheriff's sights.

Shaking his head, the sheriff holstered one of his pistols, then swung the other one on an arc. He pulled the trigger with the gun in motion.

Rena stared in horror as the bullet sped towards her. But then, it took a hard left turn and shot down the auxiliary side street. Milliseconds later, a pained canine squeak rang out. Then, silence.

With her would-be rapists eliminated, Rena breathed a tense sigh of relief and picked up the anime magazines again.

" _Mine now, bitches."_

Publications in hand, she looked at the distant sheriff. Something about him reminded her of someone she knew—someone from a television show that she watched when she was a girl back in Eladard. Perhaps his outfit made him look like most other western action heroes? Then again, however, something about him struck her as decidedly familiar. While she walked towards him, he in turn approached her. When fifty feet separated the two, Rena knew that she had not been seeing things.

"Flint Morris? Is that you?"

The coyote stopped in his tracks and tipped his hat. "That's me."

Rena squealed like a fangirl and sprinted towards the lawman, who stumbled backwards in surprise. She moved so quickly that he had no time to react as she threw her arms around him and squeezed him. "I can't believe it's actually you! You're my hero! I took up martial arts because of you! I've seen every episode of your show! You're amazing!"

While Rena rattled off praise for the aged canid, Fox and Hartmann's teams walked in front of Flint's jeep and stared at the bizarre scene in front of them.

Tapping Fox on the shoulder, Hartmann whispered, "What the actual hell?"

Fox shrugged. "I have no idea."

Crossing his arms, Xavier cleared his throat loudly. "Ahem!"

Rena released the sheriff from her grip, while the lawman turned around and faced the group. Brushing off his shirt, he commented, "Well, it looks like someone's a fan."

Fox scratched his head. "Uh, Rena, is there something we should know here?"

Shock in her eyes, Rena yelled, "Are you kidding me? You don't know who Flint Morris is? He's the most badass person ever to have lived!"

Morris shrugged while crossing his arms, implying that while he felt bashful, he did not dispute Rena's claim.

Fox, Falco, Hartmann, Xavier, Vincent, Scarlet, Slippy, Miyu, and Lucas all looked at each other. Then, Fox rolled his eyes and said, "We need to get going. Sheriff, lead the way to your place. We'll follow you after we get back to our truck."

"Gotcha," the coyote replied. "I'll give you an escort to your truck just to make sure nothing else goes wrong here." He looked at Rena with a frustrated yet forgiving expression.

" _Fark, I love you so much,"_ she thought to herself.

* * *

 _-_ § _-_

* * *

After leaving Cuidad del Sangre behind, the two teams followed Sheriff Morrison's jeep back to the airport, where Slippy climbed into the Landmaster and fell in behind the other two vehicles on the way to the Sheriff's clandestine homestead, located twenty miles outside the city. A sea of sand streaked by, unbroken by any kind of plant life besides scrawny cacti, tumbleweeds, and red dirt. One indistinct trail created by the jeep's previous tire marks led the way to Morris's abode.

Along the way, the teams noted that a set of train tracks ran roughly parallel to the dirt road. No trains used it at the moment, but in his mind, Fox pictured the multi-mile behemoth that was rumored to run through the desert.

After a half hour of driving through the wasteland, a large cabin appeared. The building was situated at the top of a rocky bluff. It looked to be made of wood, and it featured a lower level garage built into the rock below the main floor. The rest of the house followed a basic one-story design with a plantation-style front porch that offered its owner a magnificent view of absolutely nothing worth seeing.

However, one particular 'decoration' next to the house distracted from everything else around it. Said decoration was a sizable bomb with a single, weathered white star painted on the side. It rested on a concrete pad, almost as if its owner intended for it to be used as décor.

The three vehicles stopped in front of the garage door, and the two teams along with Sheriff Morris climbed out. Shutting his driver's side door, Fox looked at Morris and pointed to the bomb next to the house while Hartmann and Scarlet joined him. "What is that doing here?"

"Oh, that?" Morris grinned. "That's my nuke. I use it to keep the bandits in check."

"Your _what?"_

"Come closer—I'ma tell you a story."

Fox, Hartmann, and Scarlet shuffled closer to the sheriff as he explained, "So, about twenty years ago, a Macbeth nuclear bomber was flying over these parts, when all of a sudden, the bomb doors just opened. The bomb fell out, but it didn't blow up when it hit the ground. I figure the sand must've cushioned the landing. Well, anyway, the Macbeth Army tried to track it down, but they never found it. When I moved in here a few years back, I ran into it while doing a desert patrol. And by 'ran into it,' I mean that I literally ran into it. Mangled my front bumper, it did. I figured that it would be better if I was keeping an eye on it, so I dragged it back to my house with my jeep and put it on that concrete pad there. It sure helps keep the bandits away from me when I'm out here."

"How does that do anything, though?" Hartmann asked. "You can't launch it, you don't know how to set it off, and even if you did, it would kill you instantly. Some deterrent you've got there."

Morris smirked. "Yeah, but the bandits don't need to know any of that. All they need to know is that I've got a nuke and I'm not afraid to use it, and they won't come anywhere near me. They're not the brightest bunch. Now, come inside. Let's discuss that train you're trying to stop."

The eleven climbed a set of steps chiseled out of the bluff that functioned as the house's foundation before Morris led them up the steps to the front porch and opened the main door. Inside, few things of note stood out to the teams. A few pictures of coyotes who looked similar to Morris hung on the walls—in all likelihood, his wife and children. The interior was sparsely decorated, with a select number of antique furnishings, but little else. Considering the locale and the reality that Morris lived alone, there was no need for luxurious trappings.

Morris led the way into a darkened room with a large table in the center of it. As opposed to the wood that composed the rest of the house, the walls in this room were made of concrete. Various types of firearms hung from the walls, while crates of ammunition and food rations sat on the floor in organized stacks.

"This is my safe room," Morris explained, "You can never be too careful or prepared out here. I'm sure you've realized that already." He flicked a light switch near the entry door, then ushered the teams in before he closed it behind them. "Have a seat."

Thanks to there only being six chairs, not everyone could claim a seat for themselves. Predictably, Rena darted for the first available chair, which—of course—was the one at the head of the table. Scarlet, Fox, Hartmann, and Slippy managed to claim four of the remaining chairs, which left the one at the other end of the table for Morris to take.

While Falco, Vincent, Xavier, Miyu, and Lucas crossed their arms and stood together behind where Fox and Hartmann sat, the sheriff dropped into the remaining open chair and rested his hands on the table. "So, you folks want to stop that beast of a train that's been running through these parts for the last few weeks?"

"That's right," Hartmann nodded. "I don't know how invested you are with world politics, but we think the train's carrying contraband for the rogue East Fortunan state. It might be highly classified stuff, and we definitely would like to get our hands on it if it is."

Morris shrugged. "I'm out of the loop. This place is like a black hole. Once you're in here, everything else in the world kinda disappears. You're too concerned with your own survival to care about politics elsewhere."

Raising a hand, Scarlet spoke up while seated across the table from Hartmann. "I don't want to distract from anything we need to talk about, but why are you here? Honestly, this place sucks. I mean, not your house—I meant Papetoon."

The coyote stroked his goatee and gazed upon Scarlet with his wizened eyes. "You raise a good question, miss. If you couldn't tell, I'm getting old. I've only got a few years left if I'm lucky. I figured that I might as well use that time to do something good in the world while I'm still alive. You see the people around these parts? The standard of living? I say it's about time somebody did something about it. So, that's why I'm here. After my wife passed and my kids started having kids of their own, I decided that my old movie star lifestyle wasn't doing much good for anyone, including me. I came here to bring law and order to this place. I'm working on teaching some of the young 'uns around these parts about the difference between right and wrong, the meaning of justice, and of course, the art of the roundhouse kick that'll put a bad guy on the ground in the blink of an eye."

On the opposite end of the table, Rena grinned.

Morris continued, "This place won't change in my lifetime, but if the next generation takes it into their hands to fix it, Papetoon can be a place worth living in. When some real order gets set up here, the crime will drop and it'll be safe enough to start working on projects that'll bring this place up to speed with the rest of the world. You won't need a gun, an oil lamp, and a closet full of musty surplus rations to survive out here after these people get some stable leadership. At least that's what I'm hoping for. It would be a better legacy for me than the one I have back home in Titania."

Scarlet nodded in silence. Something about his sense of honor, dedication for the law, and general selfless attitude grated on her. It was not the indignation caused by a disagreement. Rather, it was the frustration caused by knowing the other party was right while personally being a selfish, opportunistic lawbreaker—no different than the bandits of Papetoon, in many ways. Wishing she had not bothered to ask Morris the previous question, she folded her hands and looked at the table while whispering, "Good for you."

Standing behind Hartmann, Xavier spoke up in hopes of putting the conversation on the right track. "Let's talk about the train, okay?"

Sensing the frustration in his comrade's voice, Hartmann looked over his shoulder at him and said, "Okay." He glanced at Morris. "Sheriff, you told me over the phone yesterday that you saw pieces of the train rolling into Cuidad del Sangre over the last few days. What do we need to know about it?"

The aged coyote adjusted his hat and replied, "Like you've probably told everyone here already, the train when assembled is over three miles long. I counted five locomotives."

Miyu, Falco, and Slippy stared wide-eyed at each other while standing behind the table.

Morris continued, "Most of the train cars are simple box cars—nothing unusual about them. There were a few liquid containers, but given how long the train is, liquids are probably less than a tenth of the cargo. There was something else I saw, though."

Fox's ears perked up. "What's that?"

"There was one strange box car that rolled in last night. It didn't match any of the others. It was painted olive drab, and the paint looked like it barely had time to dry. There was no graffiti on it. Here's the strange part: it looked armored."

"Armored?" Hartmann muttered. "How?"

"The plating on the sides was all wrong. It looked like the stuff you'd see on the outside of a tank, not a train car. Next to the sliding door on the side, there was a warning. It said, "PELIGRO—NO ABRIR."

"'Danger—don't open,' in other words," said Xavier.

Hartmann nodded. "Ironically, that's probably the one car we definitely _do_ want to open. Thanks for the heads up, Sheriff."

"Not a problem. Well, now that I've told you what I know about the train, I'm curious as to how you're going to stop this thing. I can think of a few options—most of them bad."

Opening his hands, Hartmann replied, "What we do depends on the answer to this question here: does Cuidad del Sangre rely on that rail line to get supplies?"

Morris nodded his head.

"That throws a wrench into my first idea," Hartmann groaned. "I was going to suggest we just destroy a section of tracks and derail the train. If we do that, though, it would take ages to get it fixed, and by then, a lot of people around here would starve to death. That's no good."

"There may be another option," Morris suggested. "About forty miles west of here, there's a junction that leads to an abandoned supply depot. The switch is unpowered and doesn't look like it's been used in decades. If you could find a way to throw it, the train would take the detour, smash into the depot, and leave the main line clear for the supply trains the city needs in order to survive."

"Now _that's_ a plan." Hartmann grinned.

"There's just one problem," said Morris. "You can't do it ahead of time. The instant you power up that switch and throw it, it'll send a signal to the train yard in Cuidad del Sangre. They'll send someone out to fix the problem, and the train won't leave the city until the switch is reset. They'll probably post someone at the junction to keep an eye on things, too."

Miyu lent her voice to the conversation. "So, what you're saying is that we need to power up the switch and throw it right before the train gets to it so it won't have time to stop."

"That would be a good start."

Fox and Hartmann locked eyes. Then, Hartmann nodded at Fox, indicating for him to speak. "That sounds like the best way forward. When's this train going to run?"

The coyote shook his head. "No one knows except the train controller back in Cuidad del Sangre. They could start moving it now. It could be three days before it leaves. It's impossible to tell until you hear its horn echoing across the desert."

"Got it. We'll have to keep an eye out for it, then. In the meantime, I hope you don't mind us staying here, Sheriff."

Morris met Fox's eyes with a friendly expression. "No problem, amigo. I have four bedrooms in this house, and I don't care if you use mine. I can sleep in one of the rocking chairs on the front porch if need be."

"Thanks, Sheriff," Fox replied before looking around the room at the rest of the group. "All right, then. Now we just need to figure out a way to throw the switch when the train starts moving."

"I've got some heavy-duty batteries in my garage," Morris suggested. "I'll bet one or two of those'll give you enough charge to move the tracks."

"That was simple," Hartmann replied. "The only thing left now is to decide who's going to keep an eye out for the train tonight. Anybody want to volunteer?"

Silence.

"Yeesh," the husky groaned. "Fine—I'll do it. Lucas, if you don't mind, I'm volunteering you to switch out with me tonight."

"Okay," said the jackal.

From the end of the table, Morris dismissively waved his hand. "Nah. You don't need to switch out. I'll be out there all night, anyway. Just shake me if you need help staying awake."

Hartmann looked expectantly at his former teammate. "Well then, Lucas, would you mind taking care of it for me, buddy?"

Lucas rolled his eyes before responding, "Yeah, sure."

With most of the important issues addressed, the group began leaving their chairs and standing up. The collective rustling of clothing filled the air. Over the sound, Fox commented, "Good meeting, everyone."

* * *

 _-_ § _-_

* * *

Night fell over Papetoon. While the rest of the two teams slumbered in the three other beds in Sheriff Morris's house, Lucas lay awake. Rena slept next to him, her white hair falling in her eyes while she dreamed of things he dared not think of. Knowing not to tickle her ears, he brushed her hair. It elicited a quiet sigh from the yellow vixen, and a faint smile appeared on her lips.

Lucas shared the smile and gently climbed out of bed. Creeping across the floor as not to wake Rena, he opened his travel bag and pulled a black, hooded shirt over his chest before he slipped out of the room and padded towards the front door.

Opening it with a creak, he stepped outside and looked around. Four wooden chairs rested on the wide, covered porch. Sheriff Morris sat in one of them, rocking back and forth while the night wind whistled through the wasteland. Without a word, Lucas seated himself next to the lawman.

Morris spoke. "I was wondering when you'd show up again. It's been months since the last time I saw you."

"You worry too much, Sensei," Lucas replied.

"I'm not worried. I'm just observant. Still, I think it's kinda funny that you've got a girlfriend now. I never saw you as the romantic type."

Lucas shook his head. "It's because I'm not. Rena's different. She's both asexual and aromantic—and we are madly in love with each other."

"Come again? How's that even possible?"

"Don't ask me. I never thought it would go anywhere."

Morris showed Lucas a faint grin. "I hope she knows what she's getting herself into."

"Oh, she knows." Lucas leaned back in his chair and recalled what he considered Rena's 'moment of reckoning' back on the Cerinian Islands.

"Good to know. Oh, and while you were away, I checked on your hideout for you. I killed a few roaches and straightened things up in there. Just wanted to let you know."

"Thanks, Sensei. I promise I'll be around here more often in the future."

"It ain't wise to make promises like that, son. You never know what tomorrow's gonna bring. All you can do is state your intentions and try to follow through."

"Okay then," Lucas corrected himself, "I _intend_ to spend more time here in the relatively near future."

Morris smiled. "Better." He rocked in his chair for ten seconds, then hardened his expression. "Lucas, you know I'm a man of belief—I can feel the spirit of things when something just ain't right. I didn't want to bring it up in the meeting earlier 'cause I was afraid the others would write me off as some crazy old man, but I know you'll believe me."

"What's the matter, Sensei?"

"When that one part of the train rolled through here yesterday—you know, the part of the train carrying the armored car—I felt something. It was almost ninety outside, and when that car passed, I felt as cold as ice. All the fur on my arms stood on end. There was just something _evil_ about it. Kinda like those stories of people you hear talking about demons and such. I want you to be careful out there, son."

Lucas collected himself and stared at the floor before he looked into Morris's eyes. "I'll be careful." He waited for his next thought to form, then added, "There's something Rena wanted me to ask of you."

"Oh?"

"She wants to spar with you _really_ badly."

The aged coyote sighed and raised a pair of exasperated eyebrows. "She's quite a fan, isn't she? Look—I don't want to come across like a curmudgeon, but I've got better things to do. Besides, I don't wanna hurt her. What's her skill level, anyway?"

"Competition level, easily," Lucas replied. "She knows how to fight, that's for sure."

"Hmm," Morris grunted. "I may have to reconsider this."

"Please do, Sensei. Personally, I think she would be a great student. There's a lot you could teach her."

"Perhaps. I'll have to sleep on it. I'll be here all night if you need me, but I'm gonna get some rest now. 'Night."

"Goodnight, Sensei."

In a matter of seconds, the old coyote closed his eyes, lowered his head, and drifted off to sleep. His chair rocked more and more slowly as the seconds ticked past until it ceased moving entirely.

Lucas glanced at him, then sighed and gazed at the distant horizon.


	46. The Last Laugh

**Arc IX: A Train to Catch**

 _Part 2: The Last Laugh_

Flint Morris led Rena towards a door near the back corner of his large homestead. Opening it, he stepped inside and flicked on the overhead lights, illuminating a room with two of its four walls covered in massive mirrors and the other two walls decorated with pictures of martial artists and awards Morris had accrued over fifty-plus years of martial arts mastery. The floor was covered with interlocking rubber mats, and several punching dummies stood in the room's corners.

Rena followed him into the room and felt her jaw loosen when she stepped inside.

"Welcome to my training room," said Morris. "This is where I teach my students the tools of the trade, as it were. Before we fight, though, you need to get changed."

Rena looked at herself and the black hoodie, short shorts, and black and blue striped socks that made up her non-combat attire. "Why? Why can't I just wear this?"

"It wouldn't be right," Morris replied. "Don't worry—I've got a few extra doboks that I keep around for my students. They're in that closet over here." He pointed to a door on the left wall. "While you get changed, I'll do the same. What color belt are you?"

Rena gave her idol a patronizing stare. "Black."

"In what discipline?"

Unsure of her answer, Rena replied, "Um, Kitanai Saga-shi?"

Morris suppressed a chuckle. "Miss, I don't think that's a real fighting style."

"Oh, it's real—I'll show you."

This time, the ageing coyote laughed more loudly. "All right, then. I'll get you a black belt." He turned and walked out of the room.

With him out of earshot, Rena whispered to herself, _"I'm actually going to fight Flint farking Morris! This is the greatest day of my life!"_

Walking into the closet, she closed the door and flicked on the light switch. Despite being literally in the middle of nowhere, Flint managed to electrify his house thanks to roof-mounted solar panels and a diesel generator when those did not provide enough current.

Six martial arts doboks and matching white athletic pants hung from a coat rack on the wall inside the closet. Rena picked the smallest set and changed out of her normal clothes. She struggled to recall the last time she had worn a similar outfit, considering that virtually all of her "training" had been informal, based on street fighting and watching assorted martial arts instructional videos and choreographed fight scenes from movies—some featuring Flint Morris himself.

She tied the top of the dobok together to prevent it from opening and creating a wardrobe malfunction. Then, she looked at herself in the mirror mounted to the back side of the closet door. The outfit lacked one thing—the belt. That would come soon enough.

Opening the closet door, she reentered the sparring room just before Morris walked in through the other door. Like her, he wore a set of martial arts clothing. However, his was a faded black color that suggested years—even decades—of wear and tear. A black belt encircled his waist, and when Rena looked at it, she noticed a string of Eladardian characters stitched into the fabric next to eight consecutive yellow stripes.

" _Holy fark."_

While she gawked at his belt that signified Grandmaster status, Morris approached her and handed her a plain black belt, which she almost dropped. Shaking her head, she tied it around her waist and faced Morris. The coyote cocked his head and asked, "Do you want me to go easy on you?"

Rena hardened her expression, looking insulted by his suggestion. "Hell no. Go all out—I can handle it."

"Okay then." Morris gritted his teeth. Facing Rena, he held his hands flat against his hips and bowed. Rena did nothing while wondering what sort of bizarre ritual he had initiated.

"You're supposed to bow," he said.

"Why would you bow to someone when you're about to kick their ass? That's stupid," Rena replied.

"Respect for one's opponent is one of the cornerstones of martial arts. Clearly, you have failed to understand that," Morris admonished her.

"Okay fine—I'll bow."

Feeling humiliated, Rena mimicked Morris's movement and bowed simultaneously with him. Then, she jumped into a fighting stance. Morris did the same.

Like she would for every other opponent, Rena sized up Morris, looking for the most opportune place to strike. She expected him to move forward and strike at her, but he hung back as if waiting for her to make the first move.

Rena took the cue and darted forward. She pivoted on her right foot and spun into a counterclockwise back hook kick that she hoped would catch the old master off guard. Being a southpaw had its advantages when it came to hand to hand combat. She knew that much from experience.

Morris simply stepped forward and kicked her in the waist area before she could complete the attack. The force from the kick caused her to stumble backwards. Regrouping, she moved towards Morris again and held up her fists.

Taking note of her mistake, she formulated a new strategy. She advanced towards Morris; and when she was close enough, she hurled a barrage of punches at his face and launched a swift roundhouse kick with her left leg while attacking with her fists.

Morris held his arms in front of his face, absorbing Rena's initial burst. When the yellow vixen left a short gap between punches, his reflexes warned him of an incoming kick. Extending his hands, he crouched to block Rena's roundhouse while at the same time delivering a punch to her solar plexus. She moved back six inches and yelped.

The vixen regained her composure quickly—a skill she considered invaluable. She sized up Morris for the briefest of moments, then hurled a karate chop at his neck. The coyote parried the strike and punched back with his weaker left hand, but Rena jumped back before his attack could land.

Leveraging the inertia from jumping back, she pushed off with her back foot and attacked Morris with a side kick—her most powerful attack, as simple as it was. She aimed for his face, only for him to dart to the left and sweep her back leg out from under her. She crashed to the floor but rolled backwards and stood up before her opponent could pin her down.

Morris nodded in approval.

An idea occurred to Rena. _"He's every bit as good as I thought he was, but he's old. If I keep throwing fast attacks at him, he'll get tired, and then I'll land the finishing blow."_

Acting on this strategy, she sprinted towards him and launched into a flying front kick. Morris skidded to the left and avoided the attack, but Rena expected him to dodge. The instant her feet touched the floor, she spun into a back roundhouse kick aimed at where the aged master had moved.

Morris ducked the kick and lunged forward, his fists a pair of blurs. He scored four consecutive karate punches to Rena's chest. Every impact sent a torrent of pain through her being. His fists felt like hammers smashing through crumbling bricks.

Rena refused to give in. She chop-blocked an incoming punch with her right hand before throwing a horizontal karate chop at Morris's neck with her left. The old coyote stiff-armed the attack the instant she moved her arm, inflicting enough pain to classify the block as a bona fide strike. He was not finished, however. While Rena regained her balance, he stepped forward with his right foot, reversing his stance.

He lashed out with quick, right-arm chop that caught Rena in the neck. The vixen shrieked and wobbled backwards, gasping for air. Not expecting a retaliatory strike, Morris kept on the offensive and punched her two more times before he dropped his right foot back and jumped into the air while twisting his body to the left—a flying roundhouse kick. The overwhelming strike slammed into Rena's side, the force of the blow sending her flying across the room.

Screaming, Rena smashed into the mirror on the back wall, shattering glass and creating a spiderweb pattern that covered the entire pane. She bounced off the broken glass and fell face down on the floor, but this time, she did not get up.

Quiet whimpers of pain escaped from her muzzle as Morris slowly walked over to her. Even when he knelt next to her, she avoided looking at him and cried instead. She held her head in her hands and sobbed like a child would after having her favorite toy taken from her. Morris shook his head and plucked a few pieces of broken glass out of the back of her uniform. Then, he rubbed her shoulder and whispered, "I'm sorry."

Normally, Rena would have turned and tried to bite the hand that dared to caress her, but in this instance, she remained motionless, sobbing and internally cursing her martial arts hero. Finally, she spoke. "No, you're not."

"I am truly sorry for causing you pain, Miss," Morris replied. "But as a master of martial arts, it's my obligation to teach my students that there is more to fighting than just the body."

Rena clenched her teeth. Her whole body felt like it had been lit on fire. "What do you mean?"

"You do not understand the true spirit of martial arts. You see them as a way to hurt others, express your dominance, and showcase your power. Pride, in other words. Nothing could be farther from the spirit of martial arts. A true warrior uses her skills to promote peace, protect those she loves, and strive for the good of all people. Humility is its greatest virtue. Your friend Lucas understands this. You do not. You will never grow as a person or a warrior until you learn to put others before yourself."

Shedding tears of pain and rage, Rena snarled, "No! People will walk over me like a farking doormat if I do that!"

Morris stroked Rena's hair. "You are not wrong. But some sacrifices must be made for the greater good. It's true that by valuing others, you are opening yourself up to being used by them; but by walling yourself off, you're giving up. You're saying, 'I'm not strong enough to be the kind of person the world needs.' And by doing that, you turn yourself into the same person who took advantage of you. As they say, 'those to whom evil is done do evil in return.'"

Rena sniffled, her eyes closed. "But…I can't do it. I don't want them to hurt me."

"There's always hope," said Morris. "You can change. I can teach you."

"I'm not sure I want that anymore."

"Listen, Miss. Take this example: I've known Lucas for five years—ever since I moved to Papetoon, basically. When I found him, he barely spoke. He was scared of everything. He was the most shy, cowardly person I've ever met. Look at him now. Believe me—what worked for him can work for you. If you're willing, I'll teach you everything I know. It won't be easy, but it'll give you a new outlook on life when it's over."

Rena opened her eyes, releasing a stream of tears as she sat up and looked at Morris. She nodded her head. "I'll do it. Can you wait until I help Fox with his final mission first?"

The old coyote returned a warm smile. "I can. You're already on the right track."

* * *

 _-_ § _-_

* * *

Night fell for the second time since the two teams arrived in Papetoon. As the sun disappeared below the horizon, a mist descended upon the desert. However, it was not particularly thick, and it did little to obstruct visibility. After Lucas kept watch the first night, Falco and Miyu were selected to sit on the front porch and take turns keeping an eye out for the train, which had yet to appear. All eleven members of the two teams knew that the ironclad monstrosity could appear at any moment; and when it did, they knew they needed to pile into any and all available cars and make a beeline for the abandoned supply depot forty miles farther out in the desert.

While Miyu dozed off and Falco took the first watch, the others turned in for the night. Unease about the arrival of the train weighed on their minds, but it did little to prevent them from sleeping. In one of the house's four bedrooms, Scarlet slept with her head on Fox's chest. The vixen discarded all traces of clothing for the night, but following her admission that she planned to leave him after the fall of East Fortuna, Fox lost much of his desire to mate with her. He still fondled her when she desired his touch and offered the occasional romantic suggestion, but in the most recent days, Scarlet found herself turning to her favorite battery-powered toy in lieu of Fox's sudden chastity.

While she slept, Fox sighed and ran his fingers through her hair. He felt guilty for depriving her of the love she sought, but knowing that she planned to leave him dried up nearly every ounce of passion he had. He contemplated breaking up with her in the immediate future as a way to end the awkward romantic détente, but the more he thought about it, the more he realized that he loved Scarlet simply for her personality and her willingness to be his companion and friend, however temporary. What he truly wanted was for her to change her mind and stay with him after the story ended, but he had a feeling 'happily ever after' was not a realistic expectation with her. He knew her too well.

With his thoughts stuck on his romantic life, he thought about Krystal—now known as Christina Ortega. At the moment, only he, Hartmann, and the rest of the Onyx team (possibly including Lucas) knew the truth of her identity. He saw no point in revealing his secret to the rest of his own team, especially when he knew that mentioning it would galvanize Miyu, Scarlet, and Rena to disorganized anger and chaotic vengeance. Falco would not even care, and Slippy would most likely find the information mildly interesting at best.

He considered tipping off General Pepper or someone else in the Cornerian Army's chain of command, as he recognized that Krystal had likely never been targeted by Corneria's intelligence services. Then again, he reasoned that Krystal would never be found within Corneria's borders. After all, she claimed to hate the place.

The more Fox thought about it, the more he realized that in all likelihood, only he and Hartmann cared about Christina Ortega. After all, she had abandoned Rafa and left East Fortuna to fight for itself. She may as well have been a ghost at this point. Heck, she even said as much to Scarlet during their brief conversation in Eladard. While Fox thought about her, another concern occurred to him.

" _Should I tell her that I know who she is? Or should I play it off? If it's true that she really is Miss Ortega, I should kill her. My old teammates' blood is crying out for vengeance, and that blood is on her hands."_

He hated and loved her at the same time. For the damage she had inflicted on his life behind the scenes, he wished her dead. But having known her personally and having found her to be an amicable, funny, gentle-hearted person—at least on the surface—he wanted it all to be untrue and for Christina Ortega to be some other Cerinian woman. After all, if Miss Ortega was a Cerinian in disguise, it would make sense for her to have one of her people in her employment.

Fox shook his head. The similarities between the two women were too glaring for Krystal to be anyone other than the enigmatic shadow broker responsible for his lingering misery. He could never forgive her for what she did to him. Glancing to his right, he saw his phone on the dresser next to the bed. He contemplated scooting over and writing Krystal a text saying, "I know who you are, Christina," but doing so would wake Scarlet, and she looked borderline angelic with her head on his chest and her back bared to the moonlight coming in through the window on the left wall.

So, he refrained. With Krystal on his mind, he drifted off to sleep.

* * *

 _-_ § _-_

* * *

The sound of a blaring locomotive engine and the clattering of metal wheels roused him from his slumber. Gasping, he shot bolt upright, causing Scarlet to shift off of his chest and flop onto the mattress next to him. He threw his bedsheets off of himself and leaped out of bed, looking for his clothes in the darkened room. Whereas the moon had illuminated the room before, the earlier fog had become stifling. Near complete darkness enshrouded the bedroom.

" _Are you kidding? Why didn't Falco or Miyu raise the alert by now? That train is right on us!"_

After throwing on a set of dark gray fatigues with his team's logo on them, he faced the bed, where Scarlet still lay.

"Scarlet! Get up! We've got to move!"

Nothing.

A feeling of panic shot through Fox's body. He sprinted to her bedside and grabbed her by the shoulders, flipping her onto her back. As he did so, he felt the presence of an unmistakable warm, sticky fluid on his hands. He took another look at the vixen and gasped. Blood dripped out of a large gash in her throat, coating her upper body.

Fox felt sick to his stomach. His paranoia kicking into high gear, he spun on his heels and ran towards the room's exit, grabbing his assault rifle on the way out. He pressed it into his shoulder and opened the door.

The hallway outside was as dark as the bedroom. He crept along the corridor, his bare feet making no sound apart from a faint set of claw taps.

" _Everyone else should have heard that train. Why is no one awake? Are they dead, too?"_

He approached the door to the bedroom nearest him and knocked. No answer came.

" _Oh no."_

Gritting his teeth, he threw his weight into the door and shattered the lock. As the broken door swung open, he stormed into the room and looked around. Hartmann, Vincent, and Xavier all sat motionless, throats slit and covered in blood.

" _What the hell is going on here?!"_

At this point, he feared for his own life. Something was out there, murdering his friends and teammates. But why had he been spared? Whoever had killed Scarlet could have easily taken him out as well. Fox thought of the possibilities, and the strongest one disturbed him the most.

He turned a corner and entered the hallway that ran parallel with the front porch. Upon reaching the front door, he opened it and looked outside. As he feared, Miyu and Falco had suffered the same fate as the others. Miyu sat hunched over in her rocking chair, while Falco lay sprawled out face down on the porch floor.

Fox's thoughts immediately turned to Slippy, Rena, and Lucas. The latter two shared the last bedroom on the opposite side of the house, and if anyone could have avoided being murdered by a phantom individual, it was those two. Slippy, on the other hand... Perhaps he was creative enough to avoid death at the hands of this mystery assassin?

Fox moved in the direction of Lucas and Rena's bedroom, but he stopped cold when he heard the sounds of a fight emanating from Flint Morris's sparring room. Ears and fur on end, he sprinted to the sparring room door and forced his way through it.

Inside the darkened room, he saw a flash of yellow for a moment before the sound of a knife cleaving through its victim reached his ears. A faint gurgle followed a second later. As his eyes adjusted to the darkness, Fox watched in horror as a woman unceremoniously tossed Rena's body to the ground and stepped out of the shadows. As she walked into the faint light coming from the opened door, Fox recognized her as none other than Krystal herself. She held a carving knife in her hand, and spots of blood dotted the blue catsuit that had once belonged to Scarlet.

"You!" Fox screamed, pinning his ears back and aiming his gun at her. "I knew I shouldn't have spared you back in Katina! You took my concern for you and did _this?!_ " He pointed at Rena's corpse.

"Oh, you silly Fox," Krystal replied, her voice far too happy for the occasion. To Fox's ears, the murdering of everyone else in the building had no emotional effect on her. "I had no other choice. Your usefulness reached its limit. Your team is a liability now—or should I say, _was_ a liability."

"I should have known you were playing me this entire time!"

Krystal shrugged while a disturbingly innocent smile adorned her lips. "Men like you are so easy to play. All you have to do is flirt a little bit and make it seem like they're wanted. Works every time. It's so much fun. You were an especially entertaining catch.

Fox snarled and moved his finger to his gun's trigger. "Die, bitch!"

He pulled the trigger, but the only sound that reached his ears was the dreaded 'click' of a jammed weapon. Enraged, he hurled the rifle to the ground and clenched his fists.

"Nice try, Fox, but that's not going to work on me," Krystal grinned. "I think I'll be leaving now."

"You are going nowhere."

The vixen sighed and fondled her knife. "I'm sorry, then. I didn't want to have to kill you, but you've forced my hand."

Struggling to think through his rage, Fox looked past Krystal at Rena's dead body and noticed a round metallic implement lying on the floor next to her. While Krystal drew her knife and ran towards him, he sprinted towards Rena's pizza cutter and scooped it up. He flicked the power switch on the handle, causing the blade to begin building up speed. He turned just in time to see Krystal leap at him, knife held high. As she brought the blade down, Fox slashed at her abdomen with the pizza cutter. A feminine shriek filled the room.

Fox backed up towards the center of the room as Krystal stared aghast at her bleeding stomach. "How could you do this?" she whimpered. "The pain… _I can't take it anymore!"_

Her voice suddenly changed to a demonic scream that filled both his ears and his mind with such intensity that he lost his balance and nearly fell to the floor. In front of his eyes, Krystal's fur darkened until it reached a shade of complete blackness, and her bodysuit disappeared. Fox looked on in shock as scores upon scores of luminescent orange veins appeared on her body. A morbid, suggestive, and terrifying combination of naked flesh, synthetic fur, and biomechanical engineering appeared before his eyes.

Then, Krystal's aquamarine eyes vanished. A baleful, orange glow in the center of two orbs of utter darkness replaced their gentle hue. In the darkness of the room, her body itself seemed to radiate a faint fiery aura. Even from fifteen feet, Fox felt the air around him heating up.

Face flushed of blood, he stared aghast at the spectral figure and asked, "What are you?"

The woman responded with a voice that sounded like a chorus of anguished whispers. _"I am the end of your existence."_

Fox knew immediately that fighting this…thing…was a death wish. So he ran. He turned his back and lunged for the still-opened door leading into the hallway outside, but in a mere second, he found himself knocked to the ground. His body slammed into the rubber flooring, knocking the breath out of him. He tried pushing himself up, but his spectral foe leaped onto him and rolled him onto his back.

Her touch seared him as she dug her fingers and claws into his shoulders while staring at him with her soulless orange eyes. She held Krystal's bloodied carving knife between her teeth, but she pulled it out with her right hand and brandished it.

"No! This has to be a dream! This can't be happening! Wake up! Wake up!" Fox yelled.

Suddenly, it occurred to him that pain did not occur in the world of dreams. Yet, the agony he felt was as real as the bed he had retreated to mere hours ago. If anything, the anguish engulfing him felt _beyond_ real.

The woman dug her left claws farther into Fox's shoulders, her muscles quivering in rage.

"No! Stop!" he screamed at the spectral vixen.

The apparition halted before lifting her head and breathing out a burst of maniacal laughter. Fox closed his eyes and begged for mercy, but there would be none. The woman touched the tip of her red-hot knife to Fox's throat and pulled the blade.

* * *

 _-_ § _-_

* * *

Screaming, Fox shot bolt upright, causing Scarlet to shift off of his chest and flop onto the mattress next to him. This time, however, he immediately reached for her and shook her to make sure she was alive. With a cough, Scarlet opened her eyes and sat up.

"Hey! What was that for?"

Fox gave her no explanation. Instead, he wrapped his arms around her, pulled her tight to his chest, and slathered her with the sloppiest kiss he could conjure.

After he pulled away, Scarlet noticed his heavy breathing and took a second to catch her own breath. "Wow. Suddenly feeling amorous again?"

"I had…I had a nightmare. She killed you."

Scarlet arched an eyebrow. "She? Who's 'she'?"

"It was Krystal—but then she changed into this…monster. I'll never be able to unsee her."

"Uh huh," Scarlet groaned. "I'm sure it couldn't have been that bad." She stopped and looked at Fox. His entire body trembled, and his fur stood on end. "Well, maybe it could have."

Fox shook his head and rubbed his eyes. "Everything felt so real. I felt pain—you know that's impossible in a dream, right? You're going to think I'm losing it, but I think there was something real to that dream."

Scarlet tried to understand, but in all honesty, emotional responses were not her strong suit. Instead, she reached out and stroked his cheek. "It's okay, Fox. Do you need to cuddle with me a little bit to take your mind off 'her'?"

"I would really like that," Fox replied. "Thanks, Scars. You're a special woman."

Under many circumstances, Scarlet would have been content to say something to the extent of, "I know," but instead, she patted Fox on the back and whispered, "Thank you."

A distant report of a horn echoed through the air. The window on the left wall muffled it, but both Fox and Scarlet knew what it was. Their ears shot up, and both became instantly alert.

"That's the train!" Fox exclaimed.

No sooner had he spoken than an air horn shattered the tranquility inside the homestead. After waking the entire house, Falco announced, "Train's coming! Everyone, get ready!"

Fox and Scarlet leaped out of bed and threw their clothes on as quickly as possible. Fox dressed himself in the same outfit he had found in his dream, while Scarlet chose her sand-colored catsuit, which she fastened combat armor to. In under a minute, they ran out of the room and headed towards the front door, where Falco and Miyu awaited them. As they arrived, Hartmann, Vincent, Xavier, Miyu, Slippy, Lucas, Rena, and finally Flint Morris assembled around them.

The old lawman spoke. "I've got some extra cars in my garage downstairs. You can use 'em if you want."

Fox replied, "Sounds good. Lead the way."

Morris nodded and led the ten towards a previously unopened door in the hallway near the front door. It led into a darkened shaft with a steep set of stairs that creaked every time a boot made contact with the wood. When the group reached the concrete floor beneath the house, Morris pressed the button to open the large garage door and flipped on a set of fluorescent lights, revealing three SUVs built by the Earth Rover company. One was a faded military green, the second was a dull, rusted beige, and the third—by far the newest of the three—sported metallic silver paint and a leather interior, although its rugged offroad wheels and tires clashed with its otherwise upscale appearance.

"All right—everybody in," Hartmann ordered. "I guess Fox is going to drive his combat truck. Anyone who wants to ride with him, hurry up and get in. I'll take that green one over there—it looks reliable. I guess the rest of you can fight over who gets the nice one. Heh—personally, I'd stay the hell away from that thing, because, you know…bzzzt!" He made the sound of sparking electronics with his mouth.

Falco dismissively waved off the husky. "Aw, come on. Well, if you don't want it, I'm taking it. Come on, Miyu. Let's do this!"

While the Onyx group jumped into the green Earth Rover and started the engine that fired up with a poof of dark gray smoke and Falco and Miyu piled into the luxury wagon, Rena and Lucas sprinted towards the last SUV in the garage and climbed in.

Fox, Scarlet, and Slippy ran out of the opened garage towards the flat piece of land where Fox's combat truck and the Landmaster tank awaited them. As the only member of Fox's team apart from Fox himself who knew the ins and outs of tank driving, Slippy hopped up the side of the Landmaster, opened the hatch, and dropped into the cockpit. He started the tank's engine, which spooled up with a whirring sound vaguely reminiscent of a turbine. In spite of the tendency for tanks to be loud, it was quieter than Fox's truck.

Fox watched Slippy swivel the turret. Then, he jumped into the driver's seat of his truck as Scarlet took the seat to his right. The cacophony of engines filled the night air. While the three Earth Rovers pulled out of Morris's garage, Fox looked past Scarlet to his right and saw the train approaching. He realized within seconds that he and his comrades would have to tear through the desert to keep ahead of the behemoth, which had already accelerated to over forty miles an hour and would only pick up speed as it left all traces of civilization behind.

Picking up a shortwave walky-talky, Fox pressed the button on the side and addressed the rest of his team, along with Hartmann's. "That train is hauling some serious ass. Don't slow down for anything unless you're going to crash. Got it?"

" _Yeah, you got it,"_ Hartmann replied.

" _Roger that, dude,"_ said Falco.

Fox snickered and looked to his left as Falco sped towards his idle truck. Then, he stomped on the gas pedal and kicked up a giant dust cloud that engulfed Rena and Lucas's SUV as they pulled out of the garage.

" _Fark, Senpai! The windows don't work on this thing!"_

The five vehicles sped away from Morris's homestead with Fox's truck taking the lead. Hartmann's and Falco's Earth Rovers tailed him, while Lucas and Rena's vehicle lagged fifty feet behind them. Slippy brought up the rear with the tank, but he knew he could travel slightly faster if he needed to. While trailing the others, he realized that any other tank would have been useless in his current situation considering that he was driving the fastest main battle tank in the world and still had minimal speed to spare.

* * *

Watching the group speed away, Flint Morris stood in front of his desert oasis with his arms crossed as the clouds of dust from the vehicles' tires and treads dissipated. Two minutes later, the Forever Train thundered by on the tracks positioned a quarter mile from Flint's homestead. Hundreds of badly rusted box cars made up most of the train. Their shells looked so poorly kept that even the graffiti that covered them was barely visible.

" _I wouldn't even ship packing peanuts in those things. Why would that train's operators use such nasty cars?"_

While he pondered the answer to his own question, the lone olive drab armored train car sped past, wedged between two white box cars with their doors wide open, suggesting a lack of cargo. The words 'PELIGRO—NO ABRIR' stood out on the side of the armored car, just as it had when it rolled into Cuidad del Sangre mere days ago. As the car passed, Morris felt a chill run down his spine. He had no idea why, but he felt as if he was being watched. Narrowing his eyes, he watched as the strange car disappeared into the distance along with the rest of the train.

The coyote lowered his head and whispered, "Good luck, gang. I think you're going to need it."

* * *

On the flat terrain and the hard red dirt, the convoy picked up speed, reaching one hundred kilometers an hour. Any faster than that, and losing control would become even more of a possibility. Holding his steering wheel with one hand, Fox radioed the others. "Everything working alright?"

Falco was the first to respond. _"Nooope. Climate control is fubar, nav system thinks I'm in Eladard, and I've got a check engine light that says 'EVAP.' I think that's just the gas cap, though. Oh, but on the plus side, the seat heaters are friggin' awesome!"_

He stopped talking for a moment, only to come back on the radio with a panicked scream as the sound of flames filtered through his handheld.

" _Aaauuugh! My ass is on fire!"_

Falco's SUV swerved back and forth while he swatted at the flames consuming his seat and his behind. He managed to extinguish them after a tense ten seconds.

Hartmann burst out laughing through his radio. _"What did I tell you about that car? I told you it was a death trap!"_

"Is yours running alright?" asked Fox.

The husky's voice dropped. _"Yeah, no. Let's see: one of the headlights only works when you punch the dashboard, the speedometer is broken, the tachometer is broken, the odometer is stuck at '999999.9', the fuel needle goes straight down every time I hit the gas, and the radio is permanently tuned to an AM station broadcasting in native Papetoonian. I think they're talking about futbol, because the host just screamed 'GOOOOOOOAAAAAALLLLL' for half a minute straight."_

Sitting in the back seat behind Hartmann, Xavier opened his radio channel. _"Lucas: The Prince of Darkness strikes again."_

" _Hey!"_ Lucas protested from behind the wheel of his rusting Earth Rover.

" _No, not_ you _, Lucas—the_ other _Lucas_ ," the cheetah explained. _"Sorry. It's an old joke, okay?"_

Hartmann chuckled. _"Yeah, Gramps—try keeping up with the times, will ya? Even though I'm actually older than you…"_

He reached forward to punch the dashboard in an attempt at making his right headlight stay on, but when his fist smacked it, the dash exploded in a shower of sparks. The passenger side airbag detonated and smacked Vincent in the chest, but thanks to his prodigious bulk, he felt almost nothing.

Looking through his driver's side window at Hartmann as the husky panicked behind the wheel, Falco picked up his handheld. _"So, who's laughing now? That's right, furbag—I am!"_

" _Screw you."_

"Falco! Look out!" Miyu shrieked, pointing straight ahead.

"Huh? Wha…"

Distracted by Hartmann, he failed to notice the sizeable, but not enormous, roughly six feet tall, prickly, lime green with splotches of wilted yellow, extremely convenient cactus directly in front of him.

"Fuuuuuu…."

Falco's Earth Rover splattered through the cactus, shearing the desert plant in half and spiderwebbing most of his windshield. In the process, cactus juice shot out of the eviscerated plant and covered both Falco and Miyu through the cracks in the glass.

"Ewww!" the lynx yelled. "Watch where you're going, featherbrain!"

Instead of a round of sympathy, a chorus of laughs from the others came from Falco's walky-talky's speakers. Slippy's laugh lasted the longest, which made his annoying, grating voice the last one that Falco heard. Furious and covered in sticky cactus excretion, the bird grabbed his radio and snapped, "Well, tell me, Slippy: what's it like inside that tin can back there? I bet Fox is gonna have to coat you in butter to get you unstuck because you're so friggin' fat."

" _I wouldn't pick a fight with the guy with the 120mm cannon aimed up your tailpipe,"_ Slippy threatened. _"Also, it's great in here. I've got my own coffee maker."_ He reached over and pulled a Styrofoam cup out of a cupholder near to the tank's drive controls. Sipping it, he added, _"It's good coffee. You want some? Oh, right—you're stuck in that rolling deathtrap. Whoops. Sucks to suck!"_

While the others laughed, Falco tossed his handheld to the floorboard and looked at Miyu, only to find that she too was giggling at him. His ego crushed, he clenched the steering wheel and stared blankly at the desolate landscape that stretched out ahead of him.

* * *

 _-_ § _-_

* * *

The convoy followed the ancient train tracks for thirty minutes. They kept their speed up to buy themselves the maximum amount of time, because Fox and Hartmann both knew that the massive freight train could reach seventy miles an hour if its conductor determined that it was safe enough. At long last, a rusted junction in the tracks appeared up ahead. A small, abandoned brick and mortar control booth stood fifty feet to its right. A set of spindly power lines ran to it from a large building that looked small thanks to its distance—the abandoned supply depot, no doubt. However, several power poles lay on the ground with bifurcated wires dangling from the remaining posts.

Stopping his truck, Fox jumped out while the other vehicles ground to a halt nearby. The other nine debarked and followed Fox towards the control station. Each of them made the same observation that he did. Not needing to examine the building any further, Fox turned around and looked at the group, Hartmann in particular. "Hartmann, did you get Morris's battery? We're definitely going to need it. This place doesn't look like it's had power in years."

"Yeah, I got it," the husky replied, walking around to the back of his green Earth Rover before emerging with a massive industrial battery that even he struggled to carry. Grunting from exertion, he gasped out, "This thing will kill you if you touch it wrong, so be extra careful."

He lugged the large battery towards the abandoned control booth and motioned for help in opening the door. Fox and Xavier ran towards it, with the latter grabbing the rusting doorknob. It refused to turn. Not bothering to try to find another way in, Fox pushed Xavier off to the side and kicked the door off its hinges. Hartmann wobbled inside and dropped the battery on the floor. He pulled a flashlight out of his belt and powered it on.

"Great. Now, we've got to connect this thing to the switch controls and pray that the wires running along the tracks still work. The good news is that if the tracks are as old as I think they are, they probably used low gauge copper when they laid the wires. Unfortunately, electrical work isn't really my thing."

Fox offered a suggestion. "Let me get Slippy. He'll have this thing wired up in no time."

"Yeah, do that. We don't have much time."

As if on cue, the distant sound of the train's horn echoed across the desert.

"Oh crap," Hartmann whispered. "Fox! Get Slippy in here now!"

Turning towards the door, Fox stepped outside and cupped his hands around his mouth. "Slippy! Get in here now!"

The amphibian barreled towards the control shack and darted inside. Once he laid eyes on the setup in front of him, he rubbed his hands and stared at the battery that he needed to connect. An analog control surface with numerous buttons of varying colors stood in front of a large, dirt-caked window that offered a perfect view of the track junction.

He looked around in the corners of the room, hoping to see an exposed power line that connected to the console. However, the construction appeared to be sound, and the area was clear of wires. Undeterred, he spotted a power outlet and pulled a screwdriver out of one of his cargo pants' innumerable pockets. Kneeling in front of the outlet, he wedged his screwdriver in the tiny gap between the power box and the wall and pried it apart. All the while, Hartmann pointed his flashlight at the wall so Slippy could see what he needed to do.

A gap in the masonry behind the power box appeared, and with it, power wires. Slippy would have preferred to test the current to make sure that it was not live, but he had no time. Thus, he risked touching the wires and was rewarded by not being killed on the spot by 220 murderous volts.

Yanking the wires out of the wall, he pulled a wire stripper out of another pocket and snipped the wires before he connected a trio of jumpers to the ancient wiring. He took a deep breath, then touched the alligator clips on the jumpers to the battery's positive and negative terminals. A quick zapping sound filled the air.

Standing up, Slippy spun on his heels and looked at the control panel in front of the observation window. All the lights began flickering. His eyes focused on one thing alone—the small red lever in the center of the console. Without hesitation, he pulled it.

The instant he pulled the lever, Scarlet, Vincent, and Falco gave the thumbs up, suggesting that the tracks had moved.

For the second time, the train's horn resounded. Fox and Hartmann watched the junction with wide eyes, while the others outside sprinted away from the tracks and crouched behind the group of vehicles parked fifty feet away.

A mile down the tracks, the train appeared, its twin headlights blazing through the night. It closed in on the switch at breakneck speed. With every second, the three inside the building and the seven outside watched in mixed fear and hope as the behemoth sped towards the split in the tracks. As it approached, Scarlet, Vincent, Miyu, Falco, Rena, and Lucas heard the sound of its wheels grinding against the tracks. The conductor had evidently been alerted to the junction having been switched and was making an attempt at stopping, but such a massive train required well over a mile to grind to a halt.

The train jolted to the right and took the switch, leaving the main line behind and barreling towards the supply depot half a mile down the tracks. While the train sped past, Fox, Hartmann, Slippy, and Xavier emerged from the control booth and watched the train cars roar by. Each of them took note of their corroded, rusted state and wondered what could have been inside them.

But then, the lone armored car came into view, near the front of the train. The trio's eyes homed in on it like laser beams.

Hartmann turned to Fox, a grin on his lips. "That's the first car we're opening. There's got to be something juicy in there."

Fox nodded, although a distinct sinking feeling metastasized in his gut. Considering that Rafa and East Fortuna wanted so badly to conceal whatever was in that car to the point of covering it in armor—it could not have been pretty.

" _I already dealt with their superweapons, so what's left? Maybe the cargo has something to do with Rafa's invincibility, like Desmond mentioned. That's got to be it—those Cerinian flowers have to be involved with this somehow. But why would they run a train this long just to ship one car that matters? A diversion, maybe? No—that would be a colossal waste. I can't see why anyone would do that."_

He put his thoughts away for a moment and watched as the train sped towards the abandoned supply depot. Unable to stop in time, the Forever Train steamrolled off the end of the tracks and smashed into the industrial complex. The impact, coupled with unburned diesel fuel from the locomotives and whatever kinds of chemicals and compounds remained in the depot, created an earsplitting explosion. A fireball akin to one created by a fuel-air bomb ripped the depot to pieces as plumes of smoke and flame rose into the night sky. As the front of the train crashed and exploded, the cars behind it rammed into the wreckage and set up a domino effect that derailed most of the cars behind it.

Hartmann and Fox covered their mouths, while Slippy gazed at the rising fireball with terror and wonder in his eyes. Xavier's eyes bugged out, and he lost his breath for a moment. When the flames subsided, the four looked at one another. Hartmann spoke first. "Whoa…that was unreal."

"It's like a bomb went off in there," Xavier gasped. "Honestly, we were too close."

"At least we're all right," Fox replied. "I guess we should drive down there and pick up the pieces."

Slapping Fox on the shoulder, Hartmann scoffed, "'I guess?' Are you kidding? We've got top secret East Fortunan research to expose! Let's go!"

The husky ran towards the parked cars and the Landmaster. Slippy and Xavier followed him, but Fox felt content to merely walk back to his combat truck where Scarlet awaited him. As he regrouped with the other nine, Fox took note of their shocked expressions. At long last, though, the train had been stopped. East Fortuna would not be receiving their contraband anytime soon, and thanks to the massive train car pileup behind the wreckage, the tracks would have to be cleared for any more illicit train routes to be run.

One by one, each of the ten piled into their vehicles and drove alongside the wrecked train until they reached the fringes of the obliterated supply depot. Chunks of concrete lay scattered about in all directions along with the remnants of smoldering train cars. Tiny flames danced across the ground where flammable material had leaked out from the depot's antiquated supply stores and exploded.

Fox struggled to recall seeing such an apocalyptic scene in his lifetime. The desert mist, the shroud of night, the soft glow of flickering fire on the ground, and the toxic scent of burning fuel and melting steel transported his mind to a different place. The explosion he had just witnessed remained in the forefront of his mind.

Scarlet interrupted his reverie by punching him in the shoulder. While he zoned out, she had opened her car door. "Hey—you coming?"

Fox shook himself and returned to reality. "Uh, yeah."

Following Scarlet, he climbed out of the combat truck and set foot on the red-hot dirt ground. The rest of the group followed suit, with Slippy parking the Landmaster farther away from the conflagration than the other vehicles.

Fox jogged to catch up with Hartmann as he walked into the midst of the wrecked train and pointed his flashlight at anything and everything that looked remotely interesting. "That car was near the front," he muttered. "If there was anything in these other cars, it's toast now. That was one mother of an explosion."

"You're not kidding," Fox replied, shaking his head. "What are you expecting to find in that armored car, though?"

The husky looked over his shoulder at Fox and took note of the others following him. "I'd be surprised if it wasn't a shipment of those weird flowers you told me about when I called you a few days ago."

Climbing over at the remains of a shredded box car, Hartmann stood atop the frame and emphatically pointed at something. "There it is!"

Fox pried his way up the box car's frame and followed the Onyx's leader's finger until he laid eyes on the wrecked armored car. Unlike the cars surrounding it, the fire had not claimed it. A few black burn marks stood out on its olive drab exterior, but it looked mostly untouched. It had fallen onto its side during the explosion, but one detail caused Fox's heart to race.

"Hartmann."

"What, Fox?"

"The side door. It's open."

The husky pointed his flashlight at the wrecked car and cocked his head. "Well, I'll be damned. That's weird."

Suddenly, someone behind him and Fox gasped. Both team leaders turned and faced the rest of the group. Behind the others, Miyu faced towards the back of the trainwreck and pointed her finger at something that neither Fox nor Hartmann saw. Scarlet, Rena, Lucas, Slippy, Vincent, Xavier, and Falco all turned to look at what Miyu had uncovered. As they did, each of their spines went rigid. All of the canids', felines', and vulpines' fur stood on end, while Falco's feathers puffed out. Slippy let out an unmanly squeak.

Hartmann jumped off the train car's frame and joined the others. He narrowed his eyes and stared at Miyu's discovery, unsure of what he was looking at. A moment later, Fox climbed down and spotted it—or more specifically, _her._

His blood froze. He took a step back, paralyzed from fear as he stared at the selfsame apparition he had encountered in his nightmare a mere hour ago. A black vixen with glowing blue outlines that ran up and down her naked body—or was it actually some sort of synthesized skin/bodysuit combination? Either way, Fox could not have cared less. Whatever she or it was, it was not welcome.

While Fox inched backwards, Vincent scowled, pulled his assault rifle out of its holster on his back, and opened fire on the vixen. Fox may have been petrified, but the oversized canine refused to let one single supernatural aberration intimidate him. While the others covered their ears, the blue outlines of the specter's body flashed orange. Just as it did in Fox's dream, a fiery aura radiated from her figure. Every one of Vincent's bullets simply warped around her with no apparent damage.

The vixen stared at the group with her soulless orange eyes and spoke with a disembodied, ghostly voice. _"You should not have done that."_

Everyone heard it. Terror in his eyes, Hartmann grabbed Vincent by the shoulders and demanded, "What have you done?"

At the same moment, Fox took another glance at the spectral woman as she began walking towards them.

"Oh. Shit."


	47. Boss Battle 6

**Arc IX: A Train to Catch**

BOSS BATTLE 6 _  
_

 _Music: In My Mind (UCast Remix) – Aly & Fila_

* * *

The instant the spectral vixen began approaching, the group splintered, with each of the ten running in separate directions. All of them fired on the shadowy foe, but as with Vincent's bullets, each of them curved around her to no effect. All of them eyed the vehicles parked outside the wreckage of the train and the supply depot. Slippy, Falco, and Miyu took the initiative and sprinted towards them, intent on fleeing the combat zone.

The three neared the Earth Rovers, Fox's combat truck, and the more distant Landmaster, but in the blink of an eye, the woman materialized in front of them, staring them down with her fiery orange eyes. Then, she closed them. When she opened her eyes again, a powerful wind buffeted the desert, stirring up the dust and dirt on the ground and hurling it into the air. Visibility dropped by the second until the vehicles—a mere thirty meters away—became invisible. Falco, Miyu, and Slippy struggled to see each other through the sandstorm.

Shielding their eyes, they raced back into the rubble of the supply depot. While running, Miyu looked over her shoulder. The apparition was gone.

" _That thing won't let us leave. We're trapped,"_ she realized.

* * *

 _-_ § _-_

* * *

The sudden sandstorm had the same effect on Fox as it did the others. He lost track of Scarlet, Rena, and all four members of Onyx. Only the sand-covered outlines of nearby cement chunks and train cars stood out to him. That is, until a flash of orange appeared twenty feet in front of him. He gasped. The dust obscured his view of the ghostly woman's body, leaving her glowing orange traces as her only visible aspects. To Fox, she resembled an extra-terrestrial from one of many sci-fi films he was familiar with.

The vixen walked towards him, eyes staring into his soul. Feeling out of options, Fox readied his assault rifle and fired a burst at her. The apparition vanished in a cloud of black dust.

Only to reappear right next to him wielding a long, black staff with the pointy end aimed at him.

Fox yelped and leaped backwards as the vixen thrust the staff at him. The tip avoided him by mere inches. He continued moving backwards until he banged up against a wrecked train car and realized that he had nowhere to go. Once again, the vixen brandished her staff and lunged at him. Fox steeled himself and prepared to make a desperate grab at her weapon, but he never had the chance to.

A yellow blur appeared out of the sandstorm, screaming at the top of her lungs and holding her absurdly sharp katana. The apparition turned her attention away from Fox and stared at Rena as she lashed out with her sword and sliced her in half.

At least, that was the idea. The black vixen dematerialized into black dust the instant Rena's sword touched her. Fox took the opportunity to take off running and find a safer place to formulate a way to take down the seemingly invincible enemy.

After her blade hit nothing but air, Rena growled and turned around. Her ear twitched, warning her of danger behind her in the spot where Fox had previously been standing. She spun on her heels in time to see the woman reappear and leap at her with the pointy end of her staff. Rena jumped backwards and grabbed a hold of the enemy's weapon when she thrust it, only to scream out in pain when a fiery surge coursed through her hands. The instant she took her hands off the staff, the black vixen took the opportunity to swing at her. The staff slammed into her stomach, knocking her to the ground.

Rena leaped to her feet, but the vixen was gone again.

* * *

 _-_ § _-_

* * *

Miyu pressed her back against a train car near the edge of the demolished depot. She called out for Falco and Slippy, but the roar of the wind and the sand drowned out her voice. Her heart pounded in her chest, and a fear that she had never felt coursed through her veins. The monstrosity could appear in front of her at any moment. She heard gunfire, but had no idea whom it belonged to. All it did was indicate where the spectral vixen had moved. At the moment, the conflagration seemed far enough away; but she knew it could change at any second.

" _I've got to get out of here. She's going to kill everyone if no one figures out how to deal with her. She's being shot at right now, so she might be distracted… I'm sorry, Fox. I don't want to die."_

Looking over her shoulder, she sprinted towards the group of parked cars. She could not see them, but she knew roughly where they were. Falco had left his keys in the ignition, and even though visibility was appalling, Miyu figured that traveling in any direction away from the spectral vixen would be good enough.

Fifteen seconds later, she spotted the group of vehicles. Not hesitating, she jumped into the driver's seat of Falco's SUV and turned the key in the ignition. The dashboard lights and the instrument cluster lit up, but nothing more than a click emanated from the engine.

" _No, no, no, no, no! Not now!"_

She cranked the key one more time, so hard that she threatened to shear the actual key off the plastic fob. The engine still refused to turn over. In the center of the digital instrument cluster, the vehicle's mileage readout disappeared. It came back a second later, but the numbers were gone. Instead, a broken verbal message appeared.

" _Good L_ck. Yo_'re F_cked."_

Miyu shot bolt upright in her seat. She reached for the door handle, desperate to get out of the car. To her horror, the door lock tabs descended, preventing the door from opening. At the same time, a loud zapping sound erupted from under the dashboard. Flames crept out from under the wood and plastic seconds later.

She pounded her fists against the side window, but it refused to shatter. All the while, the electrical fire inside the cabin continued spreading. She felt the heat from the flames and knew that she had mere seconds to escape before death became a certainty. Crawling over the steering wheel, she punched the damaged windshield, sustaining numerous cuts from the broken glass. The windscreen refused to budge. The flames grew stronger, spreading to the rest of the car. Screaming in agony as the fire seared her skin, Miyu stared through the cracked windshield.

The apparition was staring back at her, arms crossed and head lifted in hysterical laughter.

The fire crept to the underside of the SUV until it reached the fuel tank. The reservoir held up for a number of seconds, but it eventually gave way, causing the entire vehicle to ignite.

* * *

 _-_ § _-_

* * *

Vincent saw traces of the blaze in the distance and ran towards the burning car, his height and long strides allowing him to speed across the red dirt. He headed for the passenger side door, but when fifty feet separated him from rescuing Miyu, the SUV exploded in a fireball that reached thirty feet in the air. Shrapnel flew in all directions. Vincent covered his face to protect himself from the flying pieces of metal and glass before he sized up the vixen standing in front of the SUV's burning husk.

Baring his teeth, he stared at the apparition, knowing that any normal attack would be useless against her. So, he tried an abnormal strategy. Spotting Fox's combat truck nearby, he jumped into the back and ripped the truck's minigun clean off its mounts. Holding it with both hands, he jumped to the ground and took aim while moving to the right of the burning SUV. Both hands on the gun's triggers, he unleashed a hailstorm of bullets on the phantom, spraying 6,000 rounds per minute at her.

The vixen deflected the bullets, but Vincent kept up the assault. As the seconds passed, the orange outlines on her body became more and more dull.

" _She's losing power,"_ Vincent realized. _"This is going to work!"_

Seconds later, she disappeared, but it was not because she had dematerialized. The bullets had actually hit their targets. Vincent stopped firing and squinted to see through the sandy haze in front of him. Although it was faint, he heard whimpering coming from where the vixen had been standing. Even though he could not see her through the blowing sand, he marched towards her last known location, ready to finish her off with a storm of .50 caliber hollowpoints.

Suddenly, the temperature dropped to the point where Vincent felt an arctic chill. The sand cleared for the briefest of moments, and he saw the ghostly vixen lying on the ground, her body covered in blood and gaping bullet holes. Before his eyes, the wounds sealed up, and she rose to her feet. The outlines on her body luminesced once again, but this time, orange made way for blood red.

Vincent took a nervous step back as the vixen levitated off the ground and lifted her right hand. A distant metallic groan accompanied her movement. Then, she made a throwing motion. Vincent looked around, wondering what had happened.

But it was already too late. A flying train car appeared out of the sandstorm, heading straight for him. Howling in shock, he dropped the minigun and dove out of the way. It was to no avail. The train car smashed into the ground, killing him instantly.

All the while, the temperature continued dropping until it reached a tipping point. For a moment, the sandstorm came to a stop, and a deep mist descended upon the ruins of the supply depot. Then, the wind returned, bringing with it a torrent of driving snow.

* * *

 _-_ § _-_

* * *

At the front edge of the crash site, close to the control booth, Slippy huddled against a train car that had fallen onto its side. His resolve to run and fight fled from him with his body heat. His warm weather clothes offered him no protection from the sudden blizzard, and his cold-blooded nature paralyzed him. Shivering, he looked around and prayed that the phantasmal vixen would not come for him. He eyed his shotgun, but when he reached for it, his arm refused to move.

He looked up again. A swirling mass of black dust appeared in front of him. He closed his eyes and begged it not to be real, but when he opened them again, the black vixen stood in front of him. The woman stood motionless, sizing him up with her unfeeling eyes. She seemed emotionless to him, but he vaguely felt as if she took pity on him in his frozen state.

Then, the woman spoke with her disembodied, ghostly voice. _"Weakling. You are so pathetic that you're barely worth my time. Best to get this over with quickly."_

She brandished her staff, but something caught her eye before she could stab Slippy.

"Get the hell away from my friend!"

Out of the mist, Falco barreled towards Agatha and slammed into her with a flying side kick that knocked her to the ground. Not relenting in the least, he jumped onto the vixen's chest with a flying elbow before he sat up and punched her in the face. His fists of justice became a pair of blurs as he unleashed his fury on her.

However, Falco perceived a distinct sensation of power building up inside the vixen's body. He looked into her eyes in time so see them glow neon orange. The vixen pummeled Falco in the beak with the back of her hand and jumped to her feet. She barred both of her arms in front of her chest and quivered for a moment before she threw her hands wide and unleashed a telekinetic blast that manifested itself as an orange mass of hard light shards.

As soon as Falco realized what the vixen had done, the attack smashed into him. The impact sent him flying backwards until a wrecked train car ended his flight. He crashed into the side of it and fell face down into the snow, unconscious.

* * *

 _-_ § _-_

* * *

While gunfire echoed through the ruins, Xavier crept towards the outside of the initial blast's radius where the carnage seemed to come to an abrupt end. In a gap between two wrecked train cars, he peered through the snowy haze in time to see Falco go flying into the side of the train car to his right. The instant he laid eyes on Falco, he spotted the orange outlines of his enemy. With his eyes already aiming down the sights of his rifle, he opened fire on the black vixen while she recovered from unleashing her psychic blast. He aimed high, hoping for a headshot that would take her out with a single bullet.

The woman dropped to the ground without a sound. The outlines on her body went dark.

A quick sense of relief washed over Xavier, but he kept his guard up. In spite of the howling wind and the driving snow, his aim had been true. The headshot hit home. The cheetah peered through his rifle scope and crept towards the vixen, whom he could not see thanks to the pitiful visibility. When he finally did spot her lying face down in the snow, he froze.

The vixen growled and stood up with the outlines on her body glowing red, looking none the worse for wear.

 _"But...that's impossible!"_

While Xavier stared at her in shock, the vixen grabbed her staff and leaped towards him, defying all reasonable physical limits. Xavier panicked and tried to track her flight as she launched towards him, but his aim wavered and he missed. As his rifle clicked empty, the vixen plowed into him, spearing him through the chest with the pointy end of her black staff and forcing him to the ground. As Xavier bled out, she ripped the staff out of his chest and looked around.

Hartmann stood thirty feet in front of her, transfixed by the scene in front of him. At first, the shock of seeing his friend and teammate being impaled in front of him at the hands of that spectral monster caused him to lock up, much like the blue screen of death on a computer. But his inaction did not last long. Baring his teeth, he aimed his rifle at the vixen and held the trigger down.

"Die, you bitch! Die!"

The apparition vanished the instant the bullets reached her, and she did not reappear nearby.

Hartmann took a second to collect his breath, which came out in large, misty clouds due to the freezing cold. Holstering his weapon, he ran to Xavier's side and knelt next to him. The cheetah turned his head and looked into his friend's eyes. "It's been a good ride," he whispered.

Placing a hand on his shoulder, Hartmann choked out, "It's okay, buddy—we're going to get through this, okay?"

Xavier weakly shook his head. "It's over, boss. I'm sorry. It was fun while it lasted…but now…it's the end."

His final word trailed off, and his head rolled to the side.

Hartmann took one last look at Xavier and stood up. He clenched his fists and looked around for any traces of the spectral woman responsible for ending the lives of his two teammates—and he was not even aware of Vincent's death. If it was the last thing he would do, he swore to himself that he would kill that monster in the most agonizing way possible. Anything less would not be good enough. At the moment, he stood directly in the center of what had formerly been the supply depot. Train cars surrounded him, as did pieces of the depot itself. The driving snow continued to obscure his vision, and only his innate natural compass gave him a sense of direction. Even so, his range of vision suffered so badly that he doubted his own instincts. He heard and saw no one nearby.

" _They can't all be dead—if they were, that bitch would be gunning for me right now. So, that means…"_

While he thought, an ear-piercing shriek rifled through the air. He craned his head to the left and looked for signs of activity. The scream sounded different than the black vixen's cry. It sounded natural.

He narrowed his eyes. _"If that was Scarlet…"_

Although he knew of no way to stop the marauding specter, he had no choice but to intervene. He sprinted towards the source of the noise.

* * *

 _-_ § _-_

* * *

Tucked underneath a concrete overhang that marked one of the only recognizable parts of the wrecked depot, Lucas hunkered down amidst a pile of rubble. The others could not understand what he did. None of them possessed his telepathic abilities. Even the extent of his abilities was a mystery to his teammates—only Rena had witnessed their true power. His telepathy imbued him with insight into others' thoughts, patterns of reasoning, and most importantly at the moment, emotions. All around the ruined depot, mental screams of anguish tormented him. He felt Miyu's pain as she burned alive inside the SUV. He felt Vincent being crushed by a flying train car. He felt Slippy's hypothermia and Falco's whiplash after being thrown against a metal surface. He felt Hartmann's rage at Xavier's death, and he felt the feline's presence depart from the world of the living.

But above all, he felt the stifling rage of the phantasmal abomination that had no purpose but to kill and to annihilate. Her mental signature overwhelmed his senses and caused his muscles to lock up. As the deaths and injuries racked up, his conscience screamed out for him to take action, but whenever he tried to move, an unseen force paralyzed him. A sensation of resigned despair overtook him as the snow alighted on his hooded cloak.

Suddenly, a scream rang out. Its fervency and desperation jolted him out of his trance. He knew immediately who had been injured. Her pain became his, and at that moment, the malaise that pinned him down melted away.

Lucas stood up and closed his eyes. When he opened them a second later, they glowed bright yellow. Ghostly traces appeared behind his head, and he felt a raging torrent of power course through his body. Knowing that life and death hung in the balance, he ran through the snow, his mind leading him towards the source of distress.

* * *

 _-_ § _-_

* * *

In the absence of the spectral woman, Fox took a moment to collect himself and think through his options. None of them struck him as workable. The black vixen seemed impervious to damage and had the ability to travel anywhere on a whim. Invincible, in other words. In fact, Fox wondered if she was merely toying with him and his friends and had far more horrifying tricks up her sleeve to use if she was truly threatened.

During a conversation after leaving the Cerinian Islands, he remembered Rena telling him Dr. Reige's story about his wife's apparent control over reality. He had a sinking feeling that his spectral foe may have possessed the same ability. After all, how was it possible for a blizzard to whip up in the middle of the Papetoon desert? The more he thought, the more he feared that there was no way out. He could not run—the vixen would hunt him down no matter how far he fled from the supply depot. On the flipside, shooting her would accomplish nothing. He had no way to run, and no way to fight. The genie had been uncorked, and there would be no putting it back in the bottle.

As he came to this frightening realization, the specter materialized in front of him for the third time. Fear in his eyes, he stared at her and realized something: his nightmare from hours ago had been her handiwork. She was out for his blood specifically.

Fox knew he had no hope, but he refused to go down without a fight. Knowing that at the very least, it would alert anyone else still alive to his location, he opened fire on the vixen. The rounds curved around her, even from twenty feet. After shooting ten rounds, he holstered his gun and stepped backwards.

" _Please, somebody distract her,"_ he pleaded internally.

Three seconds passed. The woman stepped closer to him. Through the snow, Fox observed every horrid inch of her bioengineered body.

" _She must have been beautiful, before_ this _happened to her."_

Fox stopped retreating and held up his fists. The vixen also came to a stop, but she did not take his cue. Instead, she curved her wicked lips and drew the selfsame carving knife that had appeared in his dream. Then, she darted towards him. Simultaneously, a familiar female voice shouted, "Get away from him!"

Every muscle on edge, Fox dove to the right and faceplanted in the snow to avoid being stabbed. He rolled over in time to see Scarlet run out from behind a train car and sprint towards the black vixen. The specter saw her coming and turned her knife towards her. At the last minute, Scarlet spun to the left and kicked the black vixen to the ground while avoiding her knife.

The apparition jumped to her feet in the blink of an eye, outlines glowing blood red. Baring her teeth, she returned Scarlet's kick and pummeled her in the stomach with so much force that she left the ground and knocked Fox over after he finished rising to his feet.

While Fox and Scarlet pushed themselves up, the specter floated two feet off the ground and lifted her right hand. The train car directly behind her levitated off the ground and hung in midair.

Eyes wide, Scarlet pointed at a nearby box car and screamed, "Fox! That car over there! Get behind it!"

The two stumbled through the rapidly accumulating snow, kicking up trails of the powdery precipitation. Behind them, they heard the sound of creaking metal until a 'whooshing' noise replaced it. Neither of them dared to look back. The nearby train car loomed large in their sites, but they feared that they lacked the time to get behind it.

"Hit the deck!" Scarlet yelled.

Both foxes dove for the ground, landing in the snow behind the nearby box car. A split second later, the thrown train car smashed into the side of it. The force of the impact shoved the second car forward and into Fox and Scarlet, pushing them twenty feet across the snow.

The pain from being forcibly moved by a multi-ton chunk of metal consumed Fox. He closed his eyes and bit his lip before he forced himself to look around. To his relief, none of his limbs had been pinned underneath the box car. At the same time, every minute movement caused his muscles to cry out in pain. He wondered if he could even stand. Nothing felt broken, but everything felt strained and taxed to its limit. If he lived, his body would hurt for days.

He forced himself to turn his head and look at Scarlet. She looked no better than he did. Small tears dripped from her eyes, and a series of whimpers escaped her mouth.

"Scarlet, are you okay?"

The vixen shook her head and replied with a barely conscious voice. "I'm seeing stars…it's getting dark."

Fox steeled himself and forced his wounded body into a crawling position to help Scarlet, but a second later, a bigger problem than her health presented itself.

The apparition appeared next to him, her body still blazing red.

"Get away from me!" Fox yelled, as if that would have any effect on her.

This time, the black vixen did not draw her knife. Instead, she fixed Fox with a hateful, evil frown and reached out her hand towards him. As she did, he felt a crushing force surrounding him. Gravity seemed to disappear. The vixen lifted her hand, pulling him out of the snow and holding him in midair.

"Put me down, you bitch!"

The vixen snarled and clenched the fist on her raised hand. Immediately, Fox felt a crushing force on his windpipe. He frantically tried to draw a breath, but nothing happened. Traces of black began tugging at the corners of his vision, but the spectral vixen did not let up. Instead, she tightened her grip to the point that Fox felt that his neck would snap in half.

His world turned black. Then, without warning, he slammed back down to earth, landing in the freezing snow. The coldness jolted him, and he took a breath. Turning onto his side, he noticed the black vixen drop to her knees and let out the most bloodcurdling scream he had ever heard. A pizza cutter protruded from her back, making it clear what had happened. Of note, the outlines on her body faded away.

Looking around the edge of the train car that had hit him, Fox watched as Rena barreled through the driving snow and brandished her sword.

"Fark you! No one hurts my Senpai!"

For the first time, the apparition stumbled. She wobbled to her feet. Then, with one hand, she pulled the pizza cutter out of her back and dropped it on the ground next to her. As with the previous bullets that had managed to hit her, the wound on her back closed up as if it had never been there to begin with. As Rena neared her, the black vixen pushed out her chest, pulled her head back, and took a massive breath. The myriad veins on her body flashed red once again.

Fox bit his lip. _"I have an extremely bad feeling about this."_

The apparition leaned forward, opened her mouth, and disgorged a raging plume of fire that engulfed Rena as she ran towards her. The yellow vixen screamed and dropped to the ground. She rolled over to extinguish the flames, while the black vixen stalked after her, flames licking at her lips. Spotting Rena's sword on the snowy ground, the apparition picked it up, twirled it, and moved to finish off her yellow target while she worked to bat the flames off her combat suit.

A faint sound akin to rushing water tickled her ears, causing her to stop and look over her shoulder. Before she realized what had happened, a ghostly blue energy sphere collided with her body and exploded.

The black vixen flew backwards two feet and sat up in a daze. For a moment, the blizzard stopped, and the temperature returned to where it had been before the trainwreck. Eyes burning with hatred, she jumped to her feet and locked eyes with her unforeseen foe. The blizzard resumed.

* * *

 _Music: In My Mind [feat. Karim Youssef & May Hassan] - Aly & Fila  
_

* * *

Lucas stared down the ghostly vixen. He made it a life principle to abstain from rage at all costs, but seeing his beloved yellow friend writhing in pain on the ground forced him to kick that rule to the curb. Righteous anger was justified, he figured.

The black vixen stared back at him, her whole body subtly quivering in anger.

Lucas took the opportunity to speak while marching towards her. He halted his speech after every word. "You. Will. Not. Harm. Her."

Rena pushed herself up and moved back, feeling that something cataclysmic was about to occur. Behind Lucas, Hartmann ran onto the scene; but like Rena, he stopped when he saw the two spectral warriors staring each other down. Unnerved by Lucas's change in appearance, he breathlessly asked, "What happened to you?"

Lucas looked at his friend out of the corner of his eye. "I didn't want you to be afraid, so I hid my true self from you."

The husky nodded, then took a nervous step back.

Returning his attention to the black vixen, Lucas clenched his fists and charged towards her. The apparition matched him, and when the two met, they unleashed a pair of punches that would have caused any normal person to black out instantly. A blast of snow exploded from the impact of the two supernatural beings, and in the blink of an eye, the blizzard and all traces of whiteness vanished. Visibility returned to the area, and Papetoon looked like it had before.

When the dust cleared, Hartmann and Rena watched the scene unfold in front of them. Lucas and the black vixen stood face to face, hands pushing against each other's hands and feet digging into the ground in an effort to overpower the other and force them backwards. While Rena and Hartmann looked on in fearful anticipation, Fox stood up and hobbled away from the wrecked train car that obscured his vision. He joined in watching.

Pushing against the apparition with all his might, Lucas yelled, "What are you doing? Shoot her! I won't be able to hold her back for much longer!"

"Shooting her doesn't work!" Fox replied.

Lucas bared his teeth. "Just do it!"

"But you'll get hit too!" Hartmann protested.

For a second, Lucas closed his eyes. Then, he howled, "Do it!"

Fox and Hartmann drew their weapons and moved into position. Each stood seventy feet away from Lucas and the black vixen, which would have normally given them a relatively simple shot at their target. However, the two fighters' proximity to each other and their unpredictable movements made an accurate shot a difficult proposition.

While Hartmann moved to get a better shot at the black vixen, Rena stood transfixed, unwilling to take up arms and potentially kill the only man she had ever truly loved. She stood with her back to the group of parked vehicles a hundred meters away.

Fox took aim. "Firing now!"

He rattled off a burst of bullets, all but one of which hit the black vixen in the chest and caused her to scream out in pain. However, the other bullet caught Lucas in the arm. The jackal yelped and struggled to maintain his concentration.

On the side of the struggle closest to the ruined depot building, Hartmann cringed and halfheartedly aimed his rifle at the apparition, knowing that at his angle, he would almost certainly hit Lucas. Wrecked train cars on both his left and right prevented him from moving to an ideal shooting spot, and thanks to the knowledge that Lucas could not constrain the vixen forever, he knew he needed to strike as quickly as possible.

He pulled the trigger, trying to thread the needle and avoid Lucas. But he failed. Two of his bullets hit the black vixen, but another two caught Lucas in the back. Both combatants cried out in pain, and their melee became a struggle to stay upright.

From her viewpoint, Rena watched with tears in her eyes. She bit her claws, knowing what the others did not: the black vixen had the same blood factor that Rafa did. Bullet wounds had no effect on her. Confirming her fears, every one of the black vixen's gunshot wounds closed up, but Lucas's did not. As the struggle for dominance continued, Rena noticed the vixen beginning to overpower Lucas. Blood dripped down his clothes, and his energy began to flag.

Frantic thoughts raced through Rena's mind. She saw the glimmer of her sword on the ground and knew that if she could reach it and decapitate the black vixen while Lucas held her back, the fight would end. Yet, the sword rested less than ten feet from where Lucas and the vixen struggled against each other. If she reached the weapon and the black vixen overpowered Lucas before she could swing it, she would be killed. Not only that, but she feared moving closer to Lucas and the vixen. The strange aura surrounding them frightened her, and she had a feeling that it would not end well for her if she moved too close to them.

While she thought, the black vixen snarled and pushed Lucas back a full meter. The jackal struggled to stay on his feet. All the while, the sand began to whip up as it did at the beginning of the group's encounter with the spectral woman. Rena knew what it meant, but felt powerless to do anything to affect change.

Then, over the sound of the rising wind, she heard Lucas's desperate voice. "Rena! The tank!"

She looked over her shoulder at the Landmaster. All at once, it hit her. He was going to lose. He was either going to bleed out, or that beast was going to kill him. Covering her eyes, Rena sobbed into her hands and yelped, "I can't do it!"

In a hoarse voice that sounded on the verge of choking, Lucas screamed, "Everyone will die if you don't! Please, listen to me! Get in the tank!"

Rena swallowed the lump in her throat and turned towards the Landmaster. She kicked up her heels and sprinted across the red dirt with her legs feeling as if they were made of metal. Upon reaching the tank, she climbed up the side and pried open the hatch at the top.

She dropped into the cockpit and started the engine. The tank's viewscreens, instrument readouts, and targeting systems appeared in front of her. She paused for a split second, if only to realize that her breathing had become choppy and shallow. Yet still, she knew that Lucas was right. Overpowering her unwilling body with her mind, she swung herself into the gunner's seat and looked down the 120mm barrel. A targeting grid appeared on the viewscreen in front of her. Hands and fingers twitching and feeling as cold as ice, she adjusted the barrel until the projected blast radius encircled the black vixen.

For a moment, she hesitated; but when she looked down the sights again and saw the black vixen push Lucas to the ground and draw her carving knife, she knew what had to be done. The words of the Cerinian High Priestess returned to her.

 _"When the time comes, just act."_

Her tears obscured her vision, but she knew she had lined up the barrel correctly. Taking another quick breath, she pulled the trigger. The blast from the cannon rattled the tank, and a single depleted uranium shell rocketed out of the barrel and struck its target with a loud bang.

Head in her hands, Rena bawled her eyes out. After half a minute, she forced herself to look down the targeting scope again.

All she saw was a smoking black hole in the ground, with no trace of either the black vixen or of Lucas. The fight was over. The enemy was no more. But for her, the victory felt meaningless.

It felt as meaningless as her life now did.

The one remaining optimistic part of her mind implored her to climb out of the tank and investigate the section of broken ground where the tank shell had exploded. Perhaps Lucas could have survived? After all, he had powers beyond her comprehension.

Reluctantly, she pulled herself out of the Landmaster and jumped to the ground. She walked across the plain until she reached the site of the explosion. In the meantime, Fox kneeled next to Scarlet and tried to rouse her from unconsciousness, while Hartmann checked on Falco and Slippy. With the others occupied, the blast site stood empty.

Trembling, Rena set foot on the broken ground and whispered, "Lucas?"

She looked to her right and saw her sword in the same place where she had dropped it after the black vixen revealed her ability to breathe fire. Ahead of her, she saw nothing but dirt, rocks, and shrapnel. Then, something shiny appeared. It looked metallic, and it glowed by the light of the moon overhead. Rena crouched and approached the glow, stopping to look down at it.

It was Lucas's necklace.

Rena lowered her head to her chest and sniffled. She should have known better than to hope for the impossible. Trying to put on a brave face, she scooped up the necklace and clipped it around her neck, the way she did on the Cerinian Islands.

Except that this time, he really was gone, and he wouldn't be coming back.

Standing up, she lowered her head as the tears dripped out of her eyes. While she wept, a quiet set of footsteps crept up behind her. She paid them no mind until their owner placed a hand on her shoulder. Rena knew his touch.

"I'm sorry, Rena," Fox whispered. "I know how much he meant to you."

The yellow vixen sobbed and turned around, burying her muzzle in Fox's chest, still wet from falling into snow. While she cried, he stroked her back and said, "We're alive because of him, and because you were willing to sacrifice what mattered most to you. Lucas was a hero. You're a hero too, Rena."

Rena cried harder and clutched Fox with enough force to cause him pain. Mumbling into his chest, she choked out, "Thank you, Senpai."


	48. Dia de los Muertos

**Arc IX: A Train to Catch**

 _Part 3: Dia de los Muertos_

For minutes, Rena cried into Fox's chest while he held her. In the meanwhile, Scarlet recovered consciousness and walked to the site of the exploded tank shell that had claimed the lives of both Lucas and the black apparition. Hartmann returned to the area, as did Slippy and Falco. None of them felt like speaking much after what had transpired.

Fox patted Rena on the back one last time and gently nudged her away from him. He cleared his throat. "Is this everyone?"

Hartmann lowered his head. "I think it is, Fox. I know for a fact that Xavier's dead. I don't know about Vincent or Miyu."

"I don't think Miyu made it," said Scarlet, pointing to the charred husk that had formerly been an SUV.

Falco stared at the ruined car and gasped, "She tried to escape?"

"That's what it looks like," Fox replied, crossing his arms.

At the same time, Hartmann noticed the misplaced train car near the group of parked vehicles and caught a glimpse of a bloody streak on the ground. He spotted the minigun from Fox's truck lying nearby and concluded that Vincent had not survived. "Damn it to hell," he muttered, "She killed Vince."

The others realized that Hartmann had lost his entire team in a matter of minutes, but they chose not to say anything. They feared that any attempt to console him would backfire and make him more enraged.

To take his mind off his dead friends, Hartmann turned around and looked at the train cars scattered across the area. "I guess it's time to do what we came here for—search the train cars."

Fox sighed. "Okay. You're right—we might as well see what East Fortuna was trying to transport."

For the next fifteen minutes, the remaining six scoured all the train cars in the area that had not been blown to pieces in the initial explosion. None knew what to expect. First and foremost, Hartmann investigated the armored car responsible for transporting the black apparition. Unsurprisingly, he found it empty.

However, as the minutes rolled by, the others' search efforts returned the same dismal conclusion. Every car they opened contained nothing but rust, spiderwebs, and disappointment. After twenty minutes of searching and finding nothing, the group reassembled at the site of Lucas's death. Anger permeated their beings, but Hartmann's in particular.

Failing to hide his rage, he bared his teeth and snapped, "I should have known. It was nothing but a trap. They lured us here and loaded up a train with empty cars just so we'd think it was important, then they sent that bitch to wipe us out after we stopped it.

"It was all for nothing," Rena whimpered, covering her eyes.

Hartmann glanced at Rena, and realizing that her best friend and his former teammate had given the ultimate sacrifice for no gain whatsoever, he clenched his fists and announced, "That does it. I'm tired of hiding in the shadows. I'm pissed. I want revenge. Seeing Corneria take down East Fortuna and that little shit Rafa isn't going to be enough. I want to do it myself. My team is gone, but I'm not quitting yet. Fox—can you do me a favor?"

Fox crossed his arms again. "What's that?"

"I want to join your team. I know you're after the same thing I am."

Fox glanced at Scarlet for a moment, then looked back at Hartmann. "Done. Welcome aboard. I don't know what we're going to do next, but I'd love to have you be part of it."

"I know what we're going to do next," Hartmann muttered, his voice becoming low and gravely. "We're going to bury Xavier and Miyu, we're going to head back to Corneria, and then we're going to go after Rafa himself—a decapitation strike."

Fox pointed a finger at the husky. "Hey—if you want to be part of my team, you've got to learn to take orders from me."

Hartmann put his hands on his hips. "Sure. But are you really going to disagree with me on this?"

"No," Fox admitted. "But how are we going to strike back at Rafa? All we are is a team of six. We don't even know where he is."

"I do," Hartmann replied. "Before he died, Xavier dug up some intel about East Fortuna's command base. They're using GPS spoofing to hide it from Cornerian satellites, and it's surrounded by treacherous natural terrain that makes it a perfect place to defend from. Xav didn't find out exactly where it was, but we do have a good idea of the general area. It's roughly a hundred fifty miles northwest of Northpoint, on the other side of the Meteo mountain range."

The other five stared at Hartmann, rapt at his disclosure. Scarlet spoke. "That's a dangerous area."

"I know, Scarlet," Hartmann growled. "I didn't say it was going to be safe, but it's where we need to go."

Fox let out a frustrated harrumph. "Ahem—it's where we need to go _if I approve it;_ and right now, we're not in a good position to just march into East Fortuna and start shooting. We need to plan this out more. For now, let's focus on the job at hand. We need to bury Miyu and Xavier and get back to Corneria. We'll work things out from there."

Hartmann grumbled, "Fair enough, Fox."

* * *

 _-_ § _-_

* * *

"…And may you all rest in peace."

Flint Morris glanced at the four wooden crosses symbolizing the deaths of Xavier, Vincent, Miyu, and Lucas. He held a religious book in his right hand and paced back in forth in front of the roughshod graves. Then, he turned to face the group. "I'm sorry, kids. I knew there was something wrong with that train."

None of them said so much as a word in response. Fox and Hartmann quietly grumbled, while Falco and Slippy turned away and shuffled back towards Flint's homestead. Scarlet stared morosely at the horizon as the sun rose over the red dirt, marking the beginning of a new day.

In contrast to the others, Rena approached the coarsely-made wooden cross marking Lucas's grave and fell to her knees in front of it. She cried again, knowing that her complicity in his death would never be washed from her memory. While she buried her face in her hands, Flint approached Fox and whispered something into his ear.

Fox nodded in return, and both he and Hartmann walked back towards the nearby house, following Slippy and Falco's lead. Scarlet soon took notice of them and left the makeshift graveyard—in reality a small patch of red dirt surrounded by cacti. With the others gone, only Rena and Flint remained.

While Rena wept, Morris walked over to her and knelt by her side. He placed a hand on her shoulder, causing her to shiver in surprise. The yellow vixen opened her eyes and stared at him with mixed shock and anger. The wounds from him kicking her into a mirror the day before still festered in both her body and mind.

"Go away," Rena sobbed. "I don't want to talk now."

"You don't have to," Morris replied. "I'm here to help you."

"Help me with what? Help me realize how horrible and selfish I am? Get away from me!"

Flint paused for thought. He realized that while others may not have seen it throughout her adventure, Rena struggled deeply with self-loathing. Despite maintaining a confident, aggressive demeanor, deep down, she hated herself and blamed every mistake and shortcoming on her own failure as a person.

Despite knowing that she would hate his gesture, he patted her shoulder and whispered, "Who told you that you were horrible?"

"They all did," Rena whined, "Everybody hates me. They always have. Lucas was different, but now he's dead, and I can't deal with it. I don't want to live anymore."

"Easy now," Morris cautioned her. "There's always something to live for."

"That's easy to say when you're Flint farking Morris," Rena snapped. "I'm an annoying otaku who fights with kitchenware."

Morris sighed. "Look, Rena—I'm an old man. I've seen my share of suffering. I fought in a war before I was famous. I watched my closest friends die when I should've been in college. I've lived long enough for my own wife to die of old age. My kids all moved away and started families of their own. Basically, I'm on my own now." He stopped, then said, "But I don't let it get me down. There's always something I can do to make tomorrow worth living. You have to find that thing. You can't base your life on what other people do. They change; they leave; they die."

Rena held back a tear that managed to drip out of her eye anyway. "Flint? Do you think there's an afterlife?"

The aged coyote gazed into her eyes. "I've always believed that, yes. But truth be told, I ain't ever seen it, so I can't tell you for sure if it's real or not. This book here seems to say so, but…" He glanced at the leather-bound tome he held in his hand. "…I'm not going to find out until I'm dead."

In response, Rena merely nodded.

Morris patted her on the shoulder and added, "You want to know if you're going to see him again, don't you?"

Rena sniffled.

"I think it's going to turn out all right in the end, Miss. I can't guarantee you'll get to be with him again, but there's nothing wrong with hoping for it. If it helps, I think you probably will meet again."

Frustrated, Rena replied, "Hoping isn't good enough. I need to know."

Letting out a sigh, Morris shook his head. "I hate to say it, but there are some things we'll never truly understand. You just have to learn to accept that. The way I see it, you want to know the answers to these hard questions because when you're sure about something, you feel powerful. But sadly, that doesn't make you right. It just makes you think you're right, even if you're not. People will believe some crazy things just because not believing scares 'em too much. Personally, I think you're scared of not having all the answers. It's a smart person's problem. I ain't exactly the sharpest tool in the shed, so it never bothered me that much."

The yellow vixen managed to crack a smile in spite of her sorrow. "You're right, Flint. But how do I accept that I can't be sure of some of these things?"

Morris stroked her shoulder again. "Simple—focus on what you can change, and not on the things you ain't got no power over. That's a start. It'll get your mind off those thought experiments smart folks like you like to run and start letting you focus on the things that'll actually make a difference to the world around you. Ever notice how all these smart people end up playing chess at colleges while people who barely made it through school end up changing the world? It's less about what you have and more about what you do with it. You're a smart little lady, and you've got some real skills. You could easily do something with them that would make a difference out there. I'm sure that's what Lucas would want from you."

The mention of the late jackal's name brought a tear to her eye. "You're right. He would."

"Hey," Morris added, "Don't feel bad for him. Wherever he is right now, he isn't sad. You can feel bad for yourself, but don't cry for him. After I finished training him, he swore to use his abilities to make the world a better place. He died to protect you, so don't waste his memory and crawl under a rock. After all, I think your friends still have some business to attend to."

Rena nodded. "They do. I guess I should group back up with them again. Oh, and Flint?"

"Yes, Rena?"

The yellow vixen stood up, prompting Morris to do the same. Gratitude in her eyes, she threw her arms around him and whispered, "Thank you. I'll come back here after it's over. I promise."

"You don't have to promise me anything," Morris replied. "Come back whenever you're ready. I'll be here. Just try not to wait too long. After all, I'll be 80 in just a few years."

* * *

 _-_ § _-_

* * *

A full day later thanks to the length of the flight, the team's cargo plane touched down in Corneria City. Whereas they had left Papetoon in the morning, they arrived back home after sunset the next day due to time zone changes.

Normally, returning to the metropolis was a catalyst for relief after a stressful mission, but this time, no one on Fox's team felt at ease. Once on the ground, the team went their separate ways, with Scarlet returning to her penthouse apartment and Falco hailing a cab to the nearest bar to drink off his angst caused by Miyu's untimely death. He had a feeling he would be out of commission the rest of the night and possibly the next day.

Fox, Hartmann, Slippy, and Rena piled into Fox's combat truck and drove back to the converted home improvement warehouse that acted as Fox's base. None of the four said much. Rena kept to herself in the back seat, Hartmann ruminated on vengeful thoughts, and Fox contemplated how exactly he planned to strike back at East Fortuna. Slippy merely stared out the window, his emotions an enigma to all around him.

After fifteen minutes, Fox pulled into his base's parking lot and climbed out of the truck. Leading the other three, he flashed his ID at the door and opened it for his teammates. Fox's watch displayed a time of 8:45 PM as he walked into the base, meaning that Taiga had left for the day several hours earlier.

He flicked on the lights and turned to Hartmann while Rena and Slippy trudged towards their respective living quarters. Both wanted nothing more than to sleep. When he and Hartmann were alone, Fox turned to face him.

"You might as well take Miyu's room since she's not coming back. I don't think she did much to make it her own, so you might not even have to redecorate."

A faint, grim smile tugged at Hartmann's lips. "Thanks, buddy. I appreciate it."

Looking off to the side, Fox pondered something for a moment before he posed a question. "Hartmann, how long do you think you're going to stay with my team?"

The husky sighed. "Look, Fox—first and foremost, I want revenge on Rafa for what he did to us. I want to kill that sonofabitch, and everything after that is secondary. Having said that, I do still plan to retire when this is all over. I don't expect this to last long. If you want to try to talk me out of it, though, feel free to try."

"I'm not talking you out of anything," Fox replied, shaking his head. "This is one hundred percent your call. I know you want to retire and start chasing some tail again."

"Hey, cut it," Hartmann grumbled. "I'm looking for a _serious_ relationship here. But at the same time, if Scarlet's into it, I might as well pay her a visit first…"

"Go ahead," said Fox, straight-faced. "I really don't care anymore. She'll always be a friend, but really? I'm kinda pissed at her right now. She told me why she's going to leave me, but I still think it's BS."

Hartmann returned a knowing smile. "I could've told you that was going to happen."

"Oh really? Well, if I remember, weren't you trying to talk me into a relationship with her back when I met you in Katina and we were trying to rescue her from Wolf?"

The husky nodded and grinned. "Yep. I didn't say it would work out in the long run, though."

"Aha. I see you're trying to get me on a technicality, then." Fox crossed his arms. "Whatever. I don't need her for me to be happy."

"That's cold, Fox," said Hartmann, still smiling. "I like it." Immediately after he spoke, his phone vibrated in his pocket. Pulling it out, he stared at the screen, which displayed a picture of a cute husky with exaggeratedly voluptuous hair. He nodded in approval.

"What's that about?" asked Fox.

Hartmann glanced up from his phone screen and looked at him. "I got a notification from Canidate. Looks like a lovely lady wants to chat with me."

Fox tilted his head. "Canidate?"

"Yeah—it's a dating site for dogs. You're sort of eligible. I could give you a friend code and get you a discount if you want."

Fox waved him off. "Nah. I think I'll find my next date organically."

Hartmann snickered. _"Organically?_ Hehe. Well, good luck with that. I'm telling you, though—you're making it way too hard on yourself. After all, women love a man in uniform."

"It's a bit different when it's a _mercenary_ uniform."

The husky shook his head. "Nope. It's actually way more attractive. The more dangerous your work is, the sexier it is. Trust me—I know it from experience."

"Oh, I'm sure you do. I think for now, we'll just have to agree to dis…"

His phone chirped, cutting him off mid-sentence. Tired and unenthused about answering a call—and figuring that it may have been from Falco after being kicked out of a bar and needing a ride back to the base—he ripped it out of his pocket and stared at the screen.

RESTRICTED.

He swallowed, then answered. "Hello? Fox here."

"Fox, this is General Pepper. We have a situation. Please report to the Corneria City military command center ASAP."

While holding his phone to his ear, Fox rotated his head and glanced at Hartmann with eyes wide. Cupping his hand over the voice receiver, he said, "I think this might be the grand finale, Hartmann."

* * *

 _AUTHOR'S NOTE(S):_

 _That marks the end of Arc IX. Next up is the final story arc. Man, I can't believe I actually got this far._


	49. The Final Countdown

**Arc X: A Nuclear Error**

 _Part 1: The Final Countdown_

The cool autumn air breezed through the open window of Fox's combat truck as he pulled into the side street ending in the guard booth that blocked access to Corneria City's premier military base. As he cleared himself with the guard on duty and proceeded through the chainlink gate beyond the guard booth, he paused for thought. In a way, he felt he had come full circle. A little over a month ago, he had been airlifted to this very military base after the Northpoint catastrophe.

He remembered the reason: a mission given to him by General Pepper himself. Now, he found himself in the exact same place. However, differences abounded. This time, he had a team. He had his health—both physical, and to a slightly lesser degree, mental. And this time, instead of feeling like he was about to embark on a new journey, he felt that a chapter of his life was about to end.

Reaching the front doors of the ultra-modern military complex, he cleared his ID with the soldiers inside before he located the nearest elevator and rode it to the top floor. He knew which room he had been summoned to. Rounding a corner and looking through the transparent, blastproof glass that adorned the right side of the hallway on the base's top floor, he approached the door to the war room where his adventure began.

He took a deep breath, then opened it.

Once inside, a sense of déjà vu overcame him. The room looked exactly the same as it had the first time he had entered it. Dim lighting provided a dour environment, barely illuminating the white walls overlayed with blue accents. Around the massive, oval-shaped table in the center of the room, five people sat. Fox recognized all of them: the venerable General Pepper, the hawkish, stone-hearted General O'Donoghue, Alex Schauer—the vulpine Prime Minister of Corneria, and…his father, along with his pink fiancée Mystic?

Not bothering to address the senior leadership of the Cornerian Army and the Cornerian state itself, Fox blurted out, "Dad? What are you doing here?"

General O'Donoghue answered for him. "Have a seat, McCloud. We will explain everything."

Obeying the raven general, Fox took a seat between his father and the Prime Minister, who glanced at him and nodded. It felt bizarre to be seated next to the same national leader for whom he had voted during the previous year, and Schauer's mere presence brought the apparent urgency of the meeting into focus.

With everyone seated, General Pepper cleared his throat and spoke. "Thank you for coming so quickly, Fox. Truly, this is an urgent matter. I and my counterpart have already discussed every conceivable plan of action with Prime Minister Schauer, but I will summarize it for your sake. This is what we're up against." He motioned towards General O'Donoghue, who picked a remote off the table and powered up a projector that displayed an image of Rafa Ortega on the back wall.

Pepper continued, "An hour ago, the Prime Minister received a direct call from this man. I'm sure you know who he is—he was formerly in your employment, after all."

Fox bared a tooth, managing to unnerve even Pepper with his subdued rage.

The old hound dog averted his gaze. "Ahem. Anyway, Mr. Ortega presented the Prime Minister with a stunning ultimatum."

Fox cocked his head. "What kind of ultimatum?"

The prime minister answered with the raspy voice that had come to define his every public appearance and speech. "He demanded that I end the war effort in East Fortuna and begin withdrawing troops from their territory within 24 hours. If I refused, he threatened to destroy the four largest cities in Corneria."

Fox raised his eyebrows. "He's bluffing, right?"

General O'Donogue answered for the prime minister. "I know when a tyrant is bluffing, and I can tell when he's serious—and let me tell you, that man…" he pointed to the projected image of Rafa, "…was dead serious. Our intelligence turned up nothing in the way of conclusive evidence pointing to East Fortuna having WMD's of any kind, but shortly after General Ortega made his demands known, your father's fiancée came forward with a stunning amount of information about the East Fortunan military operation. She claimed to have been inserted into Corneria as an East Fortunan agent tasked with killing you, but she has since abandoned her mission and has cooperated with us in exchange for amnesty."

Fox stared at Mystic, speechless. In response, the magenta vixen blushed and lowered her head, confirming the general's statement.

General Pepper picked up where his counterpart left off. "Mystic pinpointed the location of East Fortuna's command base and detailed the two weapons programs their leadership has undertaken. The first is a kinetic strike weapon mounted to a satellite that was launched from a remote facility in Fichina in collusion with the Northpoint strike. The second is a fledgling nuclear program, based largely on knowhow taken from Macbeth. Mystic claims that the number of nuclear warheads in their possession is less than ten, but they do have one rocket that has been shown to work reliably in laboratory testing. It was also the type of rocket used to launch East Fortuna's weaponized satellite. The East Fortunan scientific brass calls it 'The MOAN.'"

When Pepper paused, O'Donoghue took over. "Normally, a foreign power having a single nuke would not be cause for a national emergency, but we are dealing with a hostile neighboring regime on the brink of defeat. If Rafa Ortega truly has a working nuclear missile, he very well may use it if he feels he has nothing else to lose."

"That's unsettling," said Fox. "But what do you want me to do about it?"

General Pepper replied, "I must warn you—what I am about to suggest could be considered suicidal. However, it is the best way to deal with the East Fortunan nuclear threat without acquiescing to their demands or risking a last-ditch nuclear strike on our nation. The plan that I and General O'Donoghue have come up with is for one member of your team to launch a strategic aerial assault on East Fortuna's radar facility built on top of Mt. Sharon in the Meteo Mountain range. The facility—indeed, the mountain range itself—is heavily fortified with both anti-air and anti-ballistic missile installations that have prevented us from launching bombing runs or missile strikes on East Fortuna from northern Corneria. If that radar system and the defenses around it were to be destroyed, it would put a hole in their defense network, allowing a small team to fly into East Fortuna's most essential airspace and reach their command facility."

Fox grimaced. "I think I know what's next. After Falco takes out the radar, you want the rest of my team to fly in and attack the main base, don't you?"

Both generals nodded. O'Donogue spoke. "That is correct. Now, I see your concern, and I want to address the question you doubtlessly have on your mind."

"Yeah," Fox replied, "Why do you want my tiny team to attack East Fortuna's main base? That's insane."

The raven general shrugged. "Possibly, but you seem to have a penchant for pulling off the unlikely. The reason you're being asked to do it is because Rafa will launch his weapons the instant any Cornerian soldier so much as fires off a single shot at his forces. For this reason alone, we have given orders to our men in the field to stand down until Rafa's requested 24 hours have expired. And no—we aren't asking you to launch a full-scale assault on East Fortuna's command base. We want you to get in and plant _this_ by any means necessary. _"_ He pointed to General Pepper, who held up a yellow thumb drive.

"This device," said Pepper, "Contains a malicious string of code known as a Stuxweb virus. If you can plug this drive into any of the computers linked to East Fortuna's missile launch controls, it will destroy the system from the inside, rendering it inoperable. At the same time, our anti-space missiles will be ready to destroy Rafa's orbital strike weapon. With neither of their superweapons active, East Fortuna will have no choice but to surrender." He paused. "But, I understand that you may not want to take this job. It is very dangerous, and there is a good chance that you will not survive. However, if you succeed, you and your team will be national heroes, and you will be paid handsomely for your services."

"How much exactly?" Fox's ears perked up.

"Let's just say that you won't have to worry about a loan on your base or your cargo plane anymore."

Fox suddenly sat upright and paid closer attention to the general's words. "If I choose not to take this mission, what happens?"

Prime Minister Schauer answered, "We will have one of two options. The first is to give East Fortuna what they want and pull out of their territory. The rogue state will have to be recognized as a member of the international community despite their seizure of West Fortuna's sovereign territory. If we do that, I have no doubt in my mind that they will continue to improve their weapons systems and remain a thorn in our side for years—possibly decades—to come. It is also possible that they may use their weapons to blackmail their way into a place of influence with West Fortuna—a valuable ally of ours."

He frowned and continued, "The second option is to give Mr. Ortega the finger and tell him to bring it on, for lack of a better term. If he truly has a working IRBM or ICBM, he would likely fire it at us. There is the distinct possibility of it failing and exploding upon launch or going off target, but the other possibilities are chilling, to say the least. The other eventualities include a large city being decimated by the warhead, or of East Fortuna aiming it on a lofted trajectory over the center of Corneria, then detonating it in the upper atmosphere and creating an electromagnetic pulse that would cripple large swathes of our nation and cause mass fatalities. Our missile defenses are the best in the world, but they are not 100% accurate. If Ortega's missile gets through, millions of Cornerians will die. So, truthfully, sending in a small strike force that isn't linked to the Cornerian Army is our best bet to prevent both of those nightmare scenarios from happening."

"We really want you to take this job, Fox," said General Pepper. "If anyone can pull it off, it's you. The future of Corneria is at stake."

Fox let out a long, protracted sigh. He glanced at his father and silently begged him for advice. To his dismay, the elder fox shrugged and returned a nervous, grim expression, suggesting that he had no opinion worth disclosing. Looking down at the table for a moment, he collected himself and replied to Pepper. "I'll do it. What's next?"

"You need to move your equipment to Manguine Air Force Base in Northpoint," the hound dog replied. "That is the best place for you to launch your attack from. It's only seventy miles away from the Mount Sharon radar array. You also need to brief your team on the mission. However, the contents of this meeting are only to be disclosed on a need to know basis. Do I make myself clear?"

Fox nodded. "Yes, sir."

Pepper, O'Donoghue, and Prime Minister Schauer all stood up, prompting Fox, his father, and Mystic to do the same. After shaking the Prime Minister's hand, Fox walked towards his father, who still wore an eye patch and walked with the aid of a cane. "What have I done?" he whispered to his father.

James allowed a faint smile to grace his lips. "You've made me the proudest dad on the planet—that's what you've done. You've got some serious guts, son. And by the way, I want to come with you."

In response, Mystic let out a frantic yip and tugged at James's arm. The elder vulpine stroked her neck to calm her, then explained to Fox, "I'm guessing your bird friend is going to be going after the radar array, so you're going to need someone to fly your cargo plane. I'm sure Peppy would love to do it, but even he's going to need a co-pilot. I'd be more than happy to be that guy."

Fox nodded, overwhelmed by the magnitude of the mission he had accepted. "We'll talk about it back at the base. I've got to draw up a plan with the others."

"You got it, son. I'll drop Mystic off at home, then I'll meet you at the base as soon as I can. I'll let Peppy know you need his help, too."

"Thanks, Dad. That's going to save me some time for sure."

While the father and son duo conversed, General O'Donoghue pulled the Prime Minister off to the side, away from the three vulpines and General Pepper. He whispered something into the politician's ear, all while making sure that Pepper was not privy to the conversation.

* * *

 _-_ § _-_

* * *

After waving to his father and Mystic as they drove away in the former's truck, Fox hardened his countenance and walked towards the parking space where his combat truck awaited him. He tried to avoid letting it show, but extreme anxiety pervaded his entire being. He had little hope for the mission's success, but the fear of what would happen if he had said no—combined with his desire for revenge against Rafa—drove him to press on. He knew that at the very least, Hartmann would be on board with the plan.

Breathing deeply to calm his festering nervousness, he pried open his truck door and climbed into the driver's seat. The instant he slipped his key into the ignition, his phone chirped. He pulled it out in seconds, only to see a name and number that he had not been expecting.

Krystal.

He looked around the parking lot, wondering what Hartmann would have said if he had been sitting in the passenger's seat. His mind ran in circles as he debated his response to the unexpected phone call, all within the span of a few seconds. For one, he could play off Krystal's identity and pretend to still be on friendly terms with her; or, on the contrary, he could unleash fire and brimstone upon her and berate her for the inexcusable actions she had taken as Miss Ortega. Taking a deep breath, he answered the call.

"Hello?"

Krystal did not wait to speak. "Fox, this is extremely urgent. Rafa is threatening Corneria with weapons of mass destruction unless he gets his way. He's serious about using them."

"I know," Fox grimly replied. "I just got out of a meeting about that." He steeled himself for a second, then unleashed his frustration in words. "I wonder how it feels to be in your position right now, having enabled him and elevating him to power like you did, _Christina._ Your little 'old world order' project is threatening millions of lives right now."

Krystal gasped, but she made no attempt at hiding the truth of her identity. "Yes, it's true. I'm dying inside because of it. Please, don't shut me out. Listen to me, Fox."

"Why should I listen to the woman who's responsible for destroying my life as I knew it and destabilizing the entire world order?" the orange vulpine snapped. "This is what happens when ideologues with bad ideas and too much money get their way."

"Please," Krystal whimpered, "I am truly sorry. I regret everything. I want to help you, Fox."

Fox halted his conversation and pondered his next words. An idea popped into his head, and he chose to act on it. "Okay, then, _Christina._ Where are you now?"

"I'm in my apartment in Eladard. And please, stop calling me that. It's not who I am anymore."

"All right, Krystal. If you're serious about helping me, then you'll get on the next supersonic flight headed to Northpoint and meet me there. Otherwise, I will reveal your identity to the Cornerian Intelligence Division, and half the world will be out to get you. Understood?"

Krystal swallowed. "But, how am I supposed to catch a flight like that on such short notice?"

Fox bared his teeth and growled into his phone, "Try throwing money at the problem. It seems to have worked pretty well for you in the past."

The vixen sighed, her voice weak and weary. "Fine. I'll see you in Northpoint in three hours."

"Good. See you there," Fox replied with no emotion but anger.

* * *

 _-_ § _-_

* * *

An hour later, Fox and his team congregated on the tarmac near the Corneria City military base's airfield along with James and Peppy. The team's three aerial vehicles—the cargo plane, the attack helicopter, and the Arwing—sat motionless near the base's perimeter fence. Slippy waddled towards the chopper followed by Rena, while all the rest save for Falco headed towards the cargo plane and began boarding it in preparation for their short flight to Northpoint that would precede Falco's final assault on the Mt. Sharon radar array.

While the rest of the team climbed aboard the two aircrafts, Fox glanced at Falco and said, "I want to show you something."

"Yeah, sure. Whatcha got?"

"Check it out," Fox replied, walking towards the third aerial vehicle parked on the tarmac. As he and Fox neared it, Falco recognized the plane as the Arwing Peppy had used to destroy his Ru-73 over the Venom Wastes. In the time since then, it had undergone a respray and now bore the white and blue color scheme that also covered the Landmaster and the cargo plane. Upon reaching the Arwing, Fox turned and held out his hands, as if presenting it as a gift to Falco.

The avian stared wide-eyed at the futuristic fighter and looked over it. Foxfire Enterprises's signature red flying fox logo sat in the center of the angular tailfins, with the designation "SF-03" written below it in black. Falco hardly noticed. His attention was drawn towards the cockpit. Inches below the reinforced canopy, he saw his own name printed out on the white fuselage. In reference to his former plane, a black infinity symbol decorated the Arwing's sleek nose cone.

He suddenly felt emotional. Turning towards Fox, he blurted out, "Dude—I don't believe this! Man, I'm friggin' crying!" Surprising even Fox, he barreled towards him and drew the vulpine in for a massive hug. "I can't believe I actually get to fly that thing! It's like the stars finally lined up for me. You know, up until this point, my life's honestly been pretty shitty; but now…dude, I still don't believe it!"

Pushing Falco away, Fox grinned and crossed his arms. "She's all yours. Hurry up and get in. We've got to move."

"Roger that," Falco replied, darting for the yellow ladder attached to the side of the fighter and all but vaulting into the open cockpit. Once inside, he set to work priming the plane's engines, but not before he flashed his leader a thumbs up.

Fox allowed himself to smile for a moment before the gravity of the upcoming mission erased it. Turning around, he walked over to the team's helicopter and climbed into it while Slippy spooled up the overhead blades. He took a seat on the chopper's left side crew bench across from Rena, who blocked out the world with her white headphones. The yellow vixen made eye contact for a brief second before she sighed and looked at her feet.

" _I wish I could explain how terrible I feel for her,"_ thought Fox. _"I know how it is to lose someone you love."_

His thoughts were interrupted as the helicopter lifted off the ground. As it ascended, Fox looked out the open side doors as Falco and Peppy taxied their respective planes out onto the nearest runway and prepared to take off.

With a sigh, he stood up and closed both of the helo's side doors before reclaiming his seat. He glanced at Rena again, but another set of thoughts besieged his mind. If Krystal truly did have an interest in helping him defeat Rafa, would he force her to fight alongside him in the final showdown? He took off the bag slung across his back and dropped it on his lap. Opening it, he looked inside at a set of black and red female combat fatigues with his team's insignia emblazoned upon them.

" _I hate her for everything she's done, but I really want her apology to be sincere. I guess we'll find out soon, won't we?"_

* * *

 _-_ § _-_

* * *

The asphalt groaned beneath his truck's tires as Fox drove towards the Northpoint International Airport. The jaunt from the military base where his crew awaited their orders to head for East Fortuna required him to drive through the metropolis's downtown area. As he navigated through the heavy city traffic, he took note of the numerous destroyed buildings and streetlights that still refused to turn on. For the most part, life in the city had returned to a fractured state of normalcy after East Fortuna's surprise attack a month ago. Businesses operated, families came and went to school functions, and the flow of modern life continued, but with an added element of uncertainty and fear. Fox figured it could take over a year for everything to truly return to normal after the attack that had ended several of his former teammates' lives.

He drove alone due to his desire to avoid facing Hartmann and/or Scarlet's wrath and causing a conflagration with Krystal at the airport. His drive gave him time to think. He felt ashamed of all but ditching his teammates at the city's military base and announcing that he needed to pick something up on short notice with the truck that he had ordered his team to load into the cargo plane before leaving Corneria City.

At the same time, he wondered if he was in the process of making a colossal mistake. After all, Krystal had already betrayed him before, and everyone familiar with Miss Ortega labeled her as a crafty, manipulative bitch who used relationships as leverage for accomplishing her own goals.

" _Well, if she pulls anything this time, I'm putting a bullet in her head."_

Fox turned right at a green arrow and maneuvered into a side street leading to the airport terminal. After finding a parking spot and paying to hold it for thirty minutes, he entered the Northpoint terminal. Thanks to the recent attack, far fewer people milled about the airport than they had previously. Riding an escalator up to the main level of the terminal, he moved towards a large glass wall that allowed him to view the tarmac outside. He noticed a wedge-shaped, supersonic passenger jet taxiing towards the gate closest to him. Considering that only five airlines in the world even operated supersonic jets, he knew that if Krystal had kept her word, she would be disembarking from that very plane.

For fifteen minutes, he waited until the flight's passengers wandered out of the hallway leading from the gate back into the atrium outside. Near the back of the group, he saw a flash of blue and focused on its source. Recognizing Fox's presence with her telepathy, Krystal locked eyes with him.

Fox saw traces of fear and frustration in those aquamarine eyes, but a sense of determined urgency dominated her posture and body language. She walked towards him, wearing a form-fitting blue dress that matched her fur color, along with a pair of platform sandals that effectively made her taller than he was. She also carried a black backpack on her shoulders.

Standing face to face, the two stared each other down until Krystal quietly growled, "I told you I was serious about this."

Fox exhaled. He allowed himself to let his guard down ever so slightly, but he remained wary of the blue vixen. Pulling his duffel bag off his back, he handed it to her and said, "Good. I brought you some clothes to change into. I'm sure you don't want to fight in _that_." He pointed to her dress that hugged her lithe figure and revealed a mildly suggestive amount of her white chest fur.

Krystal grabbed the bag out of Fox's hands and looked at the military fatigues inside. "These will work. Don't worry—I brought my own boots." She moved her head in a way that pointed to her backpack. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I'll be back in a few minutes.

The vulpine took a deep breath. "No. I'm going to stand outside the bathroom and wait for you. Sorry, but I don't trust you. You are _not_ getting away this time."

Sparks flew from Krystal's eyes, but she said nothing and begrudgingly nodded her head before leading Fox towards the nearest set of restrooms. As he said he would, Fox waited outside until Krystal reappeared, wearing the red and black uniform along with a pair of black combat boots from her backpack.

" _Hey, that actually looks pretty good on her."_

"Does it now?" asked Krystal, giving him a smirk.

He realized that he had forgotten about her telepathy. "Hey—get out of my head!"

The vixen grinned. "Nope. Guess what? I don't trust you either."

"Touché," Fox muttered under his breath.

With Fox leading the way, the two walked out of the terminal and into the parking deck outside, where Fox unlocked his truck and climbed in. Krystal opened the passenger's side door and seated herself with a sigh. Even though he knew time was of the essence, Fox did not start the truck's engine. In the silent cabin, he glanced at Krystal and murmured, "I'll admit, it's kind of nice to see you again."

"Same," Krystal replied, although happiness seemed far from her. She looked more at the floorboards than at Fox's face. "I really wish you hadn't found out the truth about me. That's why I told you not to look into the flowers on Cerinia."

"I know, Krystal."

The vixen sighed. "I know why you did it, though. I didn't even know Rafa was aware of those flowers. I certainly wasn't the one who told him."

"Well, if that's true, I can wipe off one evil tally mark next to your name," Fox replied.

"I'm not evil, Fox. I never have been. You and I are not that different."

"Says the woman who damaged an international alliance and helped enable a rogue dictator with nuclear weapons."

Once again, Krystal's eyes lit up in anger. She crossed her arms. "I made it perfectly clear to him that I would never tolerate nuclear, chemical, or biological weapons. He defied me. Also, if I remember, you've committed armed robbery, theft of sensitive materials, and murder—over and over and over again. If I'm evil, then you're just as horrid."

Fox paused for thought, unable to rebut her argument.

"See?" Krystal added, "The only difference between me and you is the way we see the world. You did all those awful things because you thought they would make the world a better place. So did I. I don't like killing people, Fox; but sometimes you have to do it. Sometimes, it's is the only way."

Leaning back in his seat, Fox groaned and thought back on every person he had shot, flipped, thrashed to within inches of their lives, or exploded during the past month. To his dismay, he realized that some of the fatalities belonged to people who were otherwise innocent and had no intent to harm him. The distracted opossum driver in Titania stood out to him, as did the airport security workers in Aquas. Even the dead crew of the Forever Train likely had no knowledge of the monstrosity that they had been transporting.

A sigh escaped Fox's mouth. "I really am just as bad as you, aren't I?"

Krystal reached over and touched Fox's arm. "When it comes to war, the lines between good and evil are blurred. You can spend your life living like a saint, but the instant you take up arms against one of your fellow creatures, their blood will be on your conscience forever. I'm sure you've realized that by now."

"I try not to think about it," said Fox.

"Same here. I haven't slept well since the Northpoint attack. Everything went exactly as planned until the Cornerian Army took back the city, but when I saw what I had created, I knew I had made a mistake. It would have been better to live in the shadows and fantasize about how things were instead of trying to move the world back in time."

Fox narrowed his eyes. "You don't have that option anymore."

Krystal gripped Fox's arm more tightly. "I know. It's why I'm doing this. It's why I'm going to help you. I have to atone for my sins."

Fox looked at his gas pedal instead of Krystal's eyes. "You're probably going to die. We're all probably going to die."

Tapping into his thoughts, Krystal replied, "I see your plan is to gain access to Rafa's command base. You're right—we probably won't make it out alive. But, Fox…"

"What is it, Krystal?"

"You don't have to do this."

"You're right—I don't. But the outcome if I fail or bail on the mission is bad enough for me to risk dying." He shook his head and clenched his fist while thinking about Rafa. Glancing at Krystal, he added, "You don't have to do this, either."

"Perhaps not," she replied. "But I'd rather die trying to correct my mistakes than walk away with my tail between my legs. If you really plan to go after Rafa himself, I'm coming with you. I know you're skeptical, but trust me: I know how to fight."

Fox took a deep breath and looked into Krystal's determined eyes. "I'll take your word for it."

When Krystal gave no response, Fox turned the key in the truck's ignition and started the engine. He pulled out of the parking garage a moment later and merged back onto the moonlit city streets. When he came to a stop at a red light, he looked at Krystal with his peripheral vision and said, "You don't have to talk if you don't want to, but I want to know how you got here right now."

"You want to hear my story?" Krystal replied.

"I think a lot of people would."

The vixen sighed. "It's a long one, so brace yourself. I'll try to make it as quick as possible."

"Go ahead."

"As you know, I was born on Cerinia," she began. "I grew up like all the other Cerinian girls, with my parents preparing me for adulthood and trying to arrange a mate for me years before I became an adult. But I didn't like that. I didn't like the boy my parents picked out. He was an arrogant little prick; and I knew I'd hate my life if I was forced to be his property."

"Are you sure?" asked Fox. "Your mom and dad seemed to love each other, and their marriage was arranged."

Krystal looked back at him, cynicism written all over her features. "That was not the case with me and this boy. I won't call him a man, because he was so bloody immature, and I'm sure he still is. I truly hated the idea of being his husband, and at the same time, I wanted to see what was out there beyond the islands. My father told me it was a 'raging realm of chaos'—in hindsight, he wasn't wrong. But I wanted to find out what it was like out there; so before I reached adulthood—that's around sixteen and a half in your years—I got into a canoe and paddled away in the middle of the night. No one saw me leave. I didn't realize how far it was to the nearest landmass, and I would have died if a fishing boat hadn't picked me up in the middle of the ocean."

"A Macbeth fishing crew, huh?"

"Yes. Brutish men, they were. I was petrified of them. I didn't speak a word of their language, and they were so coarse and disgusting that I wished I had never left my home. Still, they didn't hurt me. They did sell me into the slave market the instant they landed in Macbeth, though. The bastards made a lot of money on me because of my fur color."

Fox shook his head. "That really puts in perspective how long ago that must have been if slavery was still legal."

"It was a different world," Krystal replied, her voice flat. "But it turned out well for me. One of the provincial governors for the Macbeth Empire bought me while he was in town to meet with the emperor. He was a true gentleman. I knew the instant I saw him that I would be in good hands. The next day, he sailed back to his home in what became the city we're in now. I became one of the servants in his mansion. My job at first was to help keep the place clean, but after I learned the Ortega family's language and the language I'm using now, my owner gave me better things to do, like being his wife's assistant. She was a beautiful lady, even nicer than he was.

"The family had two sons, and I fell in love with the younger of the two. He was afraid of what would happen if his father found out about us, but he couldn't keep himself off me, and vice versa."

Fox raised an eyebrow.

"You're going to blush so hard, but you remind me a lot of him."

True to form, Fox turned bright red and put his eyes back on the road ahead of him.

Krystal continued, "But, eventually, his father walked in on us. He wasn't angry, though—just surprised. A week later, he announced that he was letting me go free. I told him that I didn't want that. I loved living in his manor."

"So, what happened after that?" asked Fox.

"My owner helped me apply for citizenship, and after I was freed, his son proposed to me. I said yes. That's how I became part of the Ortega family." A wistful look appeared in her eyes. "We had a long and happy life together, but we never had any children. The doctors told me I was infertile. My husband's older brother—Rafa's great-great grandfather—took over running the East Fortunan part of the Empire when my father-in-law died, so he never became involved in politics. Eventually though, he died; and my brother-in-law followed him a few years later. It wasn't acceptable for me to become the provincial governor because I was a woman, so my nephew became the new ruler. He wasn't as gifted as his father was. Around that time, the Macbeth Empire started to weaken, and the Cornerian separatists started a civil war that they eventually won. They sacked Northpoint and started rounding up everyone associated with the Empire."

She sighed. "At that point, I knew my life was over. I knew I was going to be killed by the torches and pitchforks unless I did something about it, so I did what I had to do to survive. I burned down the manor house to destroy everything that could have been linked to me, and I washed the red dye out of my fur. It worked. I escaped the city and found a way back to Macbeth, where my family kept their vault. As the oldest remaining Ortega, all the spoils belonged to me. That began a long, long time of waiting. I watched Macbeth weaken and deteriorate even further until she lost her claims on foreign lands, and I watched the rise of Corneria and her allies. But I never forgot how life was when Macbeth was the world superpower. The world was better than it is now—or maybe my nostalgia was playing tricks on me this whole time. I think you can fill in the blanks after that."

"I think so," Fox replied. "But I have one question: what was with the whole modeling thing?"

Krystal blushed and gave Fox a tiny smile. "Part of my deal with Rafa and Macbeth was that I would work as a spy for the MacCentral intelligence agency to help Rafa with his plans. Working as a model was the easiest way for me to hide what I was doing behind the scenes. Also, that tracking virus that I had Mystic plant on my website worked wonders, as you know."

"That was her work?" Fox groaned.

"Yes. I met her when she was an exchange student in Eladard. The poor girl was broke, so I gave her a job. She turned out to be very talented at coding and hacking, so I and Rafa kept her on. By the way—I told her to leak all of her information to the Cornerian Army. If that doesn't prove that I'm serious about stopping Rafa, I don't know what will. Mystic was always closer to me than she was to Rafa."

Fox looked fondly at the vixen. "I'll admit, I'm starting to trust you a bit more—but that's still not very much."

"Understandable," Krystal replied. "But I hope to win your trust again."

"It's funny that you think I _ever_ trusted you."

Krystal put on a pouty expression and lowered her ears. Fox grinned at her while turning onto the side street leading to the guard booth in front of the air force base's main entrance. "We're here. Hopefully I'll be able to clear you by claiming that you're my teammate. It's not _that_ far from the truth. Just play along, okay?"

She nodded.

* * *

 _-_ § _-_

* * *

In Fox's absence, Falco, Slippy, James, Peppy, Hartmann, and Scarlet convened on the tarmac near the end of the runway where Falco's Arwing awaited him.

"What the actual hell is Fox doing? He's been gone for almost an hour!" Hartmann snapped.

Standing next to him near one of the Northpoint air base's runways, Falco crossed his arms and looked to his right, where a crew of air base soldiers milled around two massive quad-engine bombers and a single flying wing stealth craft. "The real question I've got is why they're loading bombs into those things right now."

The husky turned his head and stared at the bombers. "That's odd. I thought all they wanted was for us to plant that virus in their system and get out while it fries their computers."

Scarlet sidled up to Hartmann and leaned her arm on his shoulder, prompting him to smile and lock eyes with her. "Personally, I would not recommend screwing around in that command base. I would never put it past General Pepper and General Warbird to bomb the hell out of that base with us still in it."

"It's generally not a good idea to screw in a war zone," Hartmann replied with a smirk.

"I'd like to try that," Scarlet giggled. "It sounds fun."

A mildly exasperated laugh escaped from Hartmann's mouth. "You're something else, you know that?"

"Oh, of course I do."

Unenthused by Scarlet and Hartmann's conversation, Falco looked at Slippy and asked him, "Hey, where's that yellow freak?"

Tinges of worry covered Slippy's face. "She hasn't gotten out of the helicopter since we left Corneria City."

"Really? That's something. I guess you or someone else should probably check on her to make sure she's not cutting herself with a pizza wheel or something."

The amphibian cringed. "That's, uh, probably a good idea. It's just…ugh…"

Their attention shifted to the gate on the other end of the concrete and asphalt airfield as it opened. Fox's combat truck appeared, bringing a sense of relief to the group that wondered why he had been away for so long when an urgent objective needed his attention. The truck drove towards the group and stopped close by. When the vehicle came to a halt, Hartmann and Scarlet squinted and tried to make out the person in the passenger's seat. To their shock, when the car door opened, Krystal climbed out. Fox accompanied her after turning off his truck's engine and setting foot on the ground.

The fur on the back of Hartmann's neck stood on end. "No! Not her!"

Krystal stared at him, malice in her eyes. While she bared her teeth, Fox stepped between her and Hartmann and declared, "Yes—her. She's coming with us."

Putting her hands on her hips, Scarlet let out a furious gasp and shouted, "Are you kidding me, Fox? She tried to kill you! She's working for Rafa! Are you out of your mind?"

Falco stared at Krystal, unsure of what he was looking at. "Wait…should I know who she is? Other than smokin' hot, of course."

"Yeah, you got that right," James commented with a grin.

Krystal blushed, while Scarlet and Hartmann glared daggers at Falco. Peppy gave James a playful punch in the arm.

Sighing, Slippy nudged Falco and whispered, "It's a long story."

Fox made an attempt at defending the blue vixen. "The only reason we even know what we're up against is because she ordered her top spy to leak the information to Corneria. That should be enough proof that she means it when she says she wants to help us."

"No," Hartmann replied, widening his stance and crossing his arms while trying to stare a hole through Krystal's forehead. "She's tricking you, Fox. If she comes with us, you're going to get stabbed in the back. I guarantee it."

A quiet snarl left Krystal's mouth. "I will do no such thing."

"I'm sure, Miss Or…"

"Shut your mouth, _Bruno!"_ Fox yelled over the sound of the husky's voice to prevent Krystal's identity from being revealed to the others. "She's coming with us. She's been to the base and knows where the main facilities are. It could be the difference between life and death, and we're going to need all the help we can get."

Seething with anger, Hartmann clenched his fists and relented. "Okay, Fox—but I swear: you are going to regret this, big time. Also, while you may be my boss now, if I see her doing anything that I think is going to put you at risk, I'm going to shoot her first and ask questions later."

Fox glanced at Krystal. She looked mentally exhausted, and despite her frustration with Hartmann, Fox understood that she knew she was not worth trusting based on her history. Turning to address the rest of the group, he assured them, "I won't let her out of my sight. If she pulls anything, I'll be the first to shoot. I have not lost my mind, okay?"

"Whatever you say, Fox," Scarlet grumbled. "I don't like this idea."

"It's going to work out," Fox replied, even though deep down inside, he harbored deep doubts and misgivings about the mission and his decision to allow Krystal to sit in on it. To change the topic, he moved towards Falco and glanced towards the team's cargo plane and attack helicopter, which sat beside a squatty brown strike fighter known as a Thunderhog and a more modern Cyclone air superiority fighter painted in an eye-searing shade of hot pink.

At the same time, two pilots wandered towards Fox and his team and waved to them. Fox recognized the bulldog on the left, while the appearance of the pink feline to his right put Falco on edge.

Fox squinted at the pilot on the left and walked towards him. "Bill? Is that you?"

"Well, if it isn't Fox McCloud!" the canine laughed, jogging towards him and pulling him in for a brotherly hug. "Good to see you again, buddy! It's been a while."

"No kidding. What are you doing here?"

Bill stared at him with a bewildered look on his face. "What? No one told you? We're your air support. The instant you get through that aerial blockade, Katt and I will escort your team to the base and soften up some of the targets for you."

"Um, Bill—this is supposed to be a covert mission."

"If you didn't notice, our planes aren't Cornerian. Mine's even painted with the East Fortunan colors. A pilot defected with it a few days ago. Katt, of course, is a mercenary like you, so she won't turn up as a Cornerian target. Besides, there's no way you'll be able to maintain perfect stealth. Keep in mind that all we really need to do is keep East Fortuna from launching any big missiles. Short of that, anything goes, really."

"Well, if you say so," Fox replied, scratching the back of his neck. "Hey—if we come back in one piece, let's get a drink sometime, okay?"

"Yeah, sure thing, dude!"

Fox grinned and turned around to look at Falco while Bill's pink mercenary counterpart conversed with the blue avian. He looked noticeably flustered, and he stuttered numerous times while talking with her. The instant he saw Fox look his way, he frantically motioned for him to come over and end the conversation.

When Katt saw Fox moving towards her and Falco, she grinned and waved to the avian before walking back towards her eyesore of a fighter jet.

"I'm guessing you know her," Fox observed.

Falco's eyes bulged. "She's my ex—she's cray-cray."

Fox returned a devilish smirk. "Oh, nice." However, in a matter of seconds, his tone shifted. He turned and looked at the Arwing parked on the runway. Six missiles—four air-to-air and two air-to-ground—hung from its variable geometry wings, and its laser emitter had been fully charged.

"Well, Falco, it's go time. Take off whenever you're ready, pal." Fox clapped him on the shoulder in an effort to inspire confidence, but Falco's confidence seemed in short supply at the moment.

"Uh, yeah. Sure, Fox."

The blue avian shuffled towards the fighter on the runway, but the lack of enthusiasm in his movements made it apparent to Fox that he felt tremendous unease about his objective. Even for a pilot of his caliber, the reality of attacking an immensely fortified anti-air array built on top of challenging mountainous terrain instilled in him a sense of fear that he rarely felt.

Upon reaching the Arwing, he stopped next to the ladder leaning against its side, but did not climb it. He felt his heart pounding in his chest. The entire mission hinged upon his success, and he had no backup. Adding to his concern, he knew that the instant he fired his first shots, the personnel managing the Mount Sharon array would call for aerial reinforcements, adding enemy fighters to the threat list that already included clusters of SAM's and AA guns.

" _Damn, I don't know if I can do this."_

He looked over his shoulder in time to see Peppy walking towards him. The old hare wore a faux leather bomber jacket embroidered with all the medals he had accrued during his military service, in addition to a pair of shoulder pins that indicated his former rank of Major.

Falco sighed as Peppy neared him and came to a stop next to the Arwing.

"Are you ready for this, sonny?" the hare asked with his characteristic upbeat twang.

Avoiding eye contact, Falco stared at the ground and shook his head. "Not really, gramps. I don't even know what I'm supposed to do. I spent all my time getting good at shooting down other planes, not blowing up stupid little ground targets."

Peppy nodded, his posture and voice becoming more sober. "Back in my day, I had the same problem; but I figured out how to beat it. Ground targets aren't that hard, really. They don't move much—well, except for them pesky tanks; but they can't shoot back at ya. Here's what you've gotta do, sonny: you've gotta take one thing at a time. If you try to focus on everything at once, you're gonna die, and that's bad."

Falco failed to restrain a smile upon hearing one of the most obvious statements in the history of the planet Lylat.

Peppy continued, "More importantly, though, you gotta trust your instincts. It's the only way. Oh, and when you're out of options, when the enemy's got you in their sights, when everythin' seems hopeless, there's only one thing to do."

"What?"

"Do a barrel roll!"

Falco raised a confused eyebrow. "But…why? How will that do anything?"

Peppy shrugged. "Heh—it always worked for me. Look here, sonny—you're the future. You're better 'an I ever was. If Fox'd told me to do what you're about to do, I'd of asked for my brown pants."

"Gee, what a confidence booster," Falco groaned.

"Yes it is," Peppy insisted, pointing a finger at Falco's face from point blank range. "I believe in you, sonny. You got what it takes to be the greatest pilot who ever lived. Now get up there and prove me right, dangnabit!"

Falco breathed out a quiet laugh. He shook his head, grinning from his interaction with Fox's unofficial uncle before he gripped the ladder leaning against the Arwing and climbed it. He dropped into the pilot's seat with less enthusiasm than usual and began the plane's startup sequence. While the canopy remained open, Peppy yanked the yellow ladder away from the side of the plane and stood below Falco. "You got this, sonny! Get up there and make your old man proud!"

Falco gave him a thumbs up and closed the canopy as the Arwing's engines spooled up. Peppy took the hint and jogged towards a patch of grass off to the side of the runway. As Falco eased the throttle forward, the old hare held up his hand in a salute. He watched the Arwing creep down the runway until Falco gunned the throttle. The formerly red exhaust flames turned bright orange, and the plane shot down the tarmac until the air moving over its wings lifted it off the ground.

The Arwing ascended into the night sky and sped towards its target, becoming nothing but a tiny speck in the distance within a minute. Shaking his head, Peppy turned towards the cargo plane he had been tasked with flying and thought to himself, _"Good luck, sonny—you're gonna need it."_

* * *

 _-_ § _-_

* * *

Breaking the sound barrier, Falco rocketed towards his target. Far below him, the green fields and highways turned to snow-covered rocks. He knew he had entered the Meteo mountain range. The appearance of innumerable snow-capped peaks would have been enough to give that away. As he guided the fighter into the airspace above the mountains, a faint snowstorm whipped up. This particular part of the Meteo Mountains never truly experienced summer thanks to its high altitude, but thankfully, Falco's flight suit and the climate controlled Arwing interior prevented him from feeling the freezing temperatures outside. Still, he knew he needed to be mindful of ice accumulating on his wings.

Far ahead in the distance, he saw an elevated plateau situated between a series of mountains bridged by a winding road. In the center of the plateau was a colossal radome large enough to reach into northern Corneria with its invasive radar pings. The instant he saw the faintest outline of it, an unhappy voice came through his pilot's headset.

" _Mount Sharon array to unidentified aircraft: warning—you are entering a restricted area. Turn back immediately, or you will be shot down. I repeat: turn back this instant or you will be shot down."_

Falco narrowed his keen eyes and stared at the distant array, guarded by clusters of anti-aircraft weapons. It was now or never.

He replied to the radome communications officer.

"Kiss my ass."

" _What did you just say?!"_

Falco smirked, but kept quiet.

" _Attention air defense unit—one bogey approaching from the southeast at high speed. Take defensive positions and light him up!"_

Falco took a deep breath and watched as a cluster of ten missiles streaked into the sky and sped towards him. He took his right hand off the flight stick for a moment, only to rub it against his other hand in nervous, yet giddy anticipation.

"Time to rock and roll."


	50. Into the Mouth of Hell

**Arc X: A Nuclear Error**

 _Part 2: Into the Mouth of Hell_

Falco's pulse quickened as the swarm of missiles blasted into the sky and made a beeline for his fighter. He realized that the Cornerian higher-ups had not been exaggerating the strength of the air defense network the East Fortunans had installed in the Meteo Mountains. With mere seconds to react, he activated his fighter's chaff dispersal and rolled to the right.

The white cloud drew the attention of five of the twelve missiles, causing them to divert away from his fighter and streak off into the distance. Six of the other warheads tracked his movements, but slipped past him and smashed into the mountains below. The last missile came within meters of striking its target, but like the others, it hit nothing and harmlessly exploded against the mountainous terrain.

Breathing an intense sigh of relief, Falco dropped altitude, flying dangerously close to the rocky crags below in order to avoid being targeted by more missiles. As the Mount Sharon radome and its air defenses came into view, he realized that he would need to maintain a precariously low altitude in order to avoid being shot down. He could dodge missiles better than most, but the sheer number of them would wear him down eventually; and he knew it.

He patted the Arwing's instrument cluster for good luck and zoomed over a gap in the mountain beneath him, continuing towards the radome. The plateau that housed the radar array and numerous SAM's and AA guns was elevated slightly above the rest of the terrain, with the exception of a few particularly tall peaks. This meant that if he wanted, he could remain below the range of the anti-air emplacements when he was not attacking.

As he closed in on his targets, eight white boxes appeared on his HUD, indicating the weapons he needed to destroy, including the radome itself. Four SAM's and three AA guns lay spread out around the area. The AA guns flanked the radome, while two of the anti-air missile emplacements maintained a perimeter on a mountain road used by the East Fortunans to run supplies up to the Mount Sharon array. Many more SAM's lined the road that snaked through the mountains for miles upon miles, but he only needed to destroy this group of them in order for the rest of his team to have safe passage through the mountains.

He decided to deal with the SAM's while the area was clear of enemy fighters. He knew they would start to appear shortly after he began destroying the radome's defenses, and he liked the prospect of dealing with enemy pilots without the threat of anti-air missiles targeting him.

Keeping the Arwing at the slowest safe speed, he hugged the mountainous terrain and pointed his nose towards one of the targeted SAM's. The mountainous supply road was built upon a brick and mortar wall. On top of it, his target awaited. At the last possible moment, he pulled up and opened fire on the missile launcher before it could target him. The SAM exploded in a plume of fire. Another missile emplacement a half mile down the mountain road launched two rockets in his direction, but he dove to the left and flew below the road. The missiles exploded into the pavement, ripping chunks out of the wall on which it was built.

As he had just done, Falco raised altitude and locked onto the second SAM. He chose to use one of his two anti-ground missiles this time. The weapon sped out from under his right wing and tracked towards its target. It went up in smoke as metal shards, asphalt, and brick flew into the air.

With two out of the four missile emplacements out of commission, he banked to the left and began looping back around towards the radome. The supply road came to an end at the radar array, which meant that instead of being positioned on the road, the two remaining SAM's stood near the radome, providing a last line of defense for the vulnerable facility.

Before he launched his attack on the radome and its immediate defenses, he pondered the difficulty of his task. To move close enough to engage the SAM's with his fighter's machine gun, he would have to put himself in range of the AA guns. He only had one anti-ground missile at his disposal, and he wanted to use it on the radome itself.

As he contemplated his battle strategy while skimming the mountainous terrain, he listened to the radar array's communications.

" _This is Mount Sharon Array to any available pilots: we are under attack by a lone fighter. Allegiance unknown—could be mercenary. Two SAM's are down already. We need backup. Please copy."_

Seconds later, a confident, raspy voice responded, _"Mount Sharon Array, this is Medallion 13. We are en route to your position, one zero mikes."_

Falco froze. Simply hearing 'Medallion' chilled his blood and caused him to temporarily lose focus on his goal. He knew better than anyone else what he was about to be up against. Before the East Fortunan uprising, Medallion Squadron functioned as the United Fortunan air force's most elite group of fighter pilots, all using modified warplanes sourced from Macbeth's secretive R& D department. Falco himself had been a member before being unceremoniously kicked out for bad behavior. In fact, he stole his now-destroyed Ru-73 from the unit after being discharged.

" _Now I've really got to hurry up and deal with these air defenses."_

He decided not to wait any longer to bag his largest prize. Turning towards the radome, he pulled up to line up his sights, then fired off his last anti-ground missile when his targeting system locked on. The instant his plane lifted above the plateau, the two SAM's positioned elsewhere on the landmass fired three missiles at him.

Falco's anti-ground missile crashed into the side of the radome and exploded, destroying the golf-ball-like spherical roof that enabled it to send out radar pings. Fires spread throughout the building, preventing any personnel inside from using the AA guns positioned on the building's perimeters.

" _This is Mount Sharon Array—critical damage sustained! Need help n…AAA!"_

A secondary explosion rippled through the building, causing plumes of smoke to rise out of the ruined radome. However, Falco saw none of it. His attention centered on the cluster of missiles screaming towards him. Having already used his countermeasures, he pulled back on his flight stick and throttled upwards, rising far above the clouds with the missiles in pursuit.

Then, he pulled back on the stick and rolled over, effectively pulling a ninety degree turn at high altitude. The missiles streaked through the airspace where he had been a fraction of a second earlier. They sped upwards and lost track of him. Still, he knew that more missiles would be coming his way.

He dove towards the distant ground while two additional missiles launched into the air and targeted him. To throw them off, he gunned the throttle and pushed the Arwing's engines to their limits. The entire plane shook from the velocity of his descent. The maneuver had the effect he intended it to have: the missiles never came close to him.

Falco had no time to celebrate. The ground approached him at a breakneck pace. Clutching the flight stick, he extended his flaps and pulled up with enough force to break a lesser plane. Even he feared that the lithe Arwing would be unable to handle the intense g-load that would have caused him to black out and crash into the mountain if the plane had not featured the experimental G-Diffuser system that counterbalanced crippling g-forces.

The Arwing responded to his input and pulled up parallel with the mountainside.

" _Hot shit—this really is the best thing ever."_

Operating almost entirely on instincts, he ascended over the edge of the plateau and laid eyes on the two remaining SAM's. His gatling gun ripped apart the first one in seconds, but the second missile emplacement eluded him for the moment.

" _I'm going to have to come around for another pass."_

Knowing that looping around would guarantee another missile gunning for him, he punched the throttle and ascended while beginning his attack loop. As he expected, another missile left the SAM and pursued him. He paid it little mind. He banked hard to the right and kept his speed up until he saw the SAM appear again out of his peripheral vision. Timing the end of his loop, he lowered altitude and streaked towards the emplacement with guns blazing.

His bullets ripped the final missile launcher to pieces. No more bullets or missiles came his way, and complete radio silence emanated from the ruined radar array. With a fist pump, Falco opened his team's radio channel.

"Hell friggin' yeah! The air defense system around the radome is down!"

After a brief pause, Fox replied to him. _"Falco, you are amazing. We'll get airborne as soon as we can."_

A split second after Fox's congratulatory statement, Peppy yelled, _"I told ya you could do it, sonny!"_

Falco smiled and leveled out, a thousand feet above the plateau where the radome belched smoke into the sky. But then, he glanced to his right. His smile vanished. Thirteen small specks appeared in the distance. His radar confirmed them.

The Medallion Squadron.

The thirteen planes flew in one pack of six and another of seven, with one group of planes maintaining altitude above the other.

Falco yawed his Arwing towards them and swallowed. He may have been the greatest pilot ever according to Peppy, but even the greatest pilot of all time stood no chance against the world's most elite air unit. Yet, he realized that if he failed to destroy every last one of his former unit's planes, they would shoot down Fox and his team and doom the mission to failure.

He only knew of one option. Glancing at his flight stick, he took note of a particular button positioned on the side. He had never used it before, but he knew what it could do in the hands of a skilled pilot. It had been his demise over Venom, and he hoped it would be the Medallion Squadron's demise as well.

He prepared the laser.

The distance between him and the Medallions was too great for him to lock onto them, or vice versa. However, he figured the Arwing's laser had a range that at the very least matched his line of sight. Feathering the flight stick like an artist handles a paintbrush, he focused his razor-sharp avian eyes on the leftmost fighter on the bottom row. Then, he squeezed the button and held it down.

To anyone else's eye, the Arwing's laser was invisible. However, for reference's sake, a red beam represented it on his HUD. The laser shredded through the first Medallion in the blink of an eye. The split second that he ascertained that his aim was true, Falco gently yawed the Arwing to the right, ripping through all six of the other pilots on the bottom row. With the touch of a master, he gently lifted the Arwing's nose and used his rudder to sweep the invisible laser beam back the other way along the top row of Medallion planes. The fighters disintegrated like exploding dominos—all except for one.

The sole remaining Medallion rolled out of the line of fire and sped towards Falco from his left.

"Oh great—I bet it's _him,"_ Falco groaned to himself.

The "him" in question was Falco's old squadron leader, Shinji Taniguchi—a demanding crane who insisted on perfection both inside and outside the cockpit. It was the outside part that caused Falco to get the boot. Unfortunately, Taniguchi would have been the one pilot whom Falco would have targeted specifically if he had the chance. The Medallion leader towered over his squadmates in terms of both talent and experience, even though Falco not-so-secretly considered himself a better pilot.

While Falco fumed, the remaining pilot gasped into his headset, _"Medallion 4, are you okay? Medallion 4, do you copy? Come in! Please, come in!"_

Falco could not resist the overwhelming temptation that arose in him. Feigning a woman's voice—poorly, at that—he replied, "Oh noes! I'm dead! Waaaaauggghh!"

The enemy pilot screamed in incoherent rage before he steadied himself. _"You. I should have known it was you, Lombardi. You think what you just did was_ funny?"

The blue avian rested his head on his hand and smirked. "Actually, it was friggin' hilarious. The so-called 'best fighter group in the world' blew up in three seconds. I wish I could've had a camera pointed at your face for that."

The enemy pilot paused and took several deep, furious breaths. _"I swear on my life: I am going to destroy you, and when your plane is on fire and you bail out, I'm going to shoot out your parachute and dismember your body with my machine gun; and I'm going to enjoy every second of it."_

"Ooh, I'm shaking," Falco giggled.

" _You have every right to be,"_ the enemy pilot snapped. A second later, both planes came within missile range of each other. A white target box appeared on both pilots' HUD's.

"Game on," said Falco.

" _I've wanted to kill you for a long time, and now I finally have my chance. It's been nice knowing you, jackass. See you in hell."_

The instant he finished speaking, the enemy pilot launched a missile. Falco rolled the Arwing onto its side and pulled up. The missile all but scraped the underside of his fighter. He breathed a tense sigh of relief, but his enemy had no plans to stop with just one missile. Thanks to Falco's defensive right roll, Shinji pulled to his left and fell in behind him, machinegun blazing.

Falco cursed under his breath as the bullets hit the back of the Arwing. At the same time, his HUD's damage meter turned yellow and displayed '42%.'

" _Friggin' balls. I shouldn't have pissed him off."_

Realizing that as it stood, he could end up being shot down in mere seconds, he followed Peppy's advice and did a barrel roll. Well, technically, it was an aileron roll, but neither he nor Peppy knew what it was supposed to be called. He rolled to the left and promptly pulled up, hoping that Shinji would take the bait.

He did. The Medallion leader's Ru-73 banked towards him and pulled up to continue his pursuit.

Falco gripped the flight stick as a bead of sweat materialized on his forehead. Every instinct in his body screamed for him to refrain from what he planned to do, but he trusted the Arwing to hold together and follow his commands. He pulled back harder on the stick while extending his flaps. The Arwing pulled into a ludicrously tight loop that caused Shinji to shoot past him.

With his former leader off his six, Falco smirked and continued pulling up. At the point where he completed a 360-degree loop, he shot upwards and laid eyes on Shinji's fighter as it ascended. As soon as he spotted it, however, Shinji banked to the right and dropped altitude. Falco lined up his target and attained a missile lock, but did not fire it, as he knew that it would miss behind his plane.

Instead, he gunned the throttle and turned right, using the Arwing's maneuverability to place himself on a collision course with Shinji's fighter as it continued pulling to his right. His finger wandered to his machinegun's trigger. He pressed the button and held it down, launching a swarm of angry bullets at his adversary. At the angle of his attack, several of the bullets tore into the side of Shinji's fighter as it sped past him.

" _Shit! My canopy! You're going to pay for that!"_

Falco whistled into his headset and mentally rubbed his hands together, feeling the momentum of the skirmish changing by the second. Putting the Arwing on its side, he pulled hard to the right and fell in behind Shinji. The older avian had no intention of letting Falco target him again, however. He dove towards the ground before abruptly lifting his nose and pulling to the left.

Falco followed his first maneuver, but missed the second. He shot past Shinji and realized in milliseconds that he would be in his foe's crosshairs in the blink of an eye unless he took immediate action. He banked to the right and began looping back around. As he turned, he noticed Shinji banking to his right in an attempt at tailing him. However, the Ru-73 lacked the Arwing's agility and could not turn as quickly as Falco could. Unable to follow the white and blue fighter, Shinji turned to his left and looked for another way to target his brash former protégé.

Completing his horizontal loop, Falco spotted an opportunity to strike. As his foe turned left, Falco found himself lined up perfectly with the Ru-73's exhaust nozzles. The instant his targeting system attained a target lock, he fired off one of his four air-to-air missiles.

Shinji cursed and tried to bank harder to the left as the missile raced towards him. He increased the engines' thrust and pushed his thrust vectoring system to its limit in the pursuit of the tightest possible left turn, but the missile continued bearing down on him. As his Ru-73 shot to the left, the missile lazily tracked his plane's movements and zeroed in.

" _No, no, no, no, no…"_

The missile struck the back end of the plane and exploded. Smoke and fire billowed from the engines as the plane's right vertical tailfin and right side rear stabilizer disintegrated into thin air. Somehow, the fighter remained airborne with one nonfunctioning engine, a critically damaged rear end, a punctured canopy, and flames spewing from the back.

Falco took a deep breath and smiled. His enemy had no way to fight back. As Shinji slowly dropped altitude, unable to keep his speed up, Falco pulled in behind him and lined up his machinegun.

" _Damn it!"_ Shinji yelled into his headset. _"You got lucky!"_

"No—you got sloppy, old man," Falco retorted. "Well, it was nice knowing you. Have fun on the way down."

Fury and fear permeated Shinji's voice. _"No! You wouldn't dare! You can't shoot down a crippled plane! Where's your honor?"_

Falco snickered. "It's funny that you think that's going to stop me after all you did to me while I was in your stupid unit."

" _I did all those things to knock some sense into you, you freeloading coward. You have no sense of loyalty, no honor, no respect for your superiors, no interest in following orders, and no hope of amounting to anything in this world. You may have beaten me, but only because you stole the plane I was supposed to get! How did you even do that?"_

"It wasn't me," Falco replied. "I was trying to protect this baby when the pilot turned out to be a fake. I almost beat him. Heh—that guy was an old fart who hadn't flown in ten years, and he would have wiped the floor with you."

" _How dare you say that!"_

"Reality check, douche canoe—you're not that amazing. I've always been better than you. You were just too afraid to admit that your stupid little social burnout of a recruit could kick your ass in a heartbeat—and he just did."

" _Mark my words, Lombardi: that ego of yours will be the death of you."_

Falco rolled his eyes. "Oh, I'm sure. Now, I've got stuff to take care of and your command base to attack, so I'll be shutting you down."

" _No! Don't do it! Cowaaaaard!"_

With no warning, a missile streaked past Falco and crashed into the enemy's fighter. The plane exploded in a fireball and disintegrated in the blink of an eye.

Falco stared dumbstruck at the plummeting wreckage ahead of him. "What the…"

He looked to his left as a pink fighter jet pulled alongside him. Inside the cockpit, Katt gave him a thumbs up and laughed into her headset. "Yeah! Downed a bandit!"

Throwing up his hands, Falco blurted out, "You stole my kill!"

"It's what I do, featherbrain."

Falco sighed and let his head droop. "Fine. Onto the base, then. I'm out of air-to-ground missiles, by the way."

A third voice came over Falco's headset. At the same time, a hideous brown attacker aircraft pulled alongside his Arwing on the right. Numerous bombs and missiles hung from its horizontal wings. "I've got you covered, dude." Bill glanced at Falco and smiled.

* * *

 _-_ § _-_

* * *

While the three fighters penetrated deeper into East Fortuna's airspace, Fox sat on his helicopter's right crew bench with his arms crossed. He looked at the three women seated next to and across from him. Scarlet sat to his left, wearing a slinky—even by her standards—catsuit with a light gray over dark gray color scheme and a reflective 'wet look' sheen. Her apparel also included numerous clips and belts, along with a bar code printed above her breastbone.

" _Saved the sexiest outfit for last, huh?"_ Fox thought to himself.

Krystal and Rena stared at him from the other side of the chopper. None of them felt much like speaking, let alone speak to each other. Scarlet and Krystal disliked each other, and forcing Rena to talk might as well have been a death wish given her crippling, unstable depression.

At long last, however, Fox decided he could no longer remain silent. He needed to explain the final plan of action before landing in East Fortuna and marching on Rafa's command base. Truth be told, he had not expected to get this far.

He took a deep breath and looked at Scarlet, then spoke in a deeper, more gravelly tone of voice than he usually did. "It's about time to land, ladies. Listen up—I'm going to go over what we need to do once we're on the ground."

Three pairs of vixen's eyes stared at him.

Fox continued, "Hartmann and my dad are going to airdrop the Landmaster near the base. Once we land, we need to meet up with them and follow the tank towards the side entrance. Krystal—feel like giving us any details on the base?"

The blue vixen nodded. "The East Fortunan command base is built inside the caldera of an extinct volcano that triggered an extinction level event 350 million years ago, or so the scientists say. Some natives give cosmic significance to the location. There is only one entrance on the east side of the base, and it is guarded by a pair of security booths. However, the entrance isn't particularly well guarded because Rafa and his generals counted on their GPS spoofing to keep the base hidden from enemies. We should be able to fight our way in without too much trouble. It's going to cause quite a racket, though."

Fox bobbed his head in agreement. "We'll need to move quickly, whatever we do. Do you know where Rafa's MOAN missile would be launching from?"

Krystal shook her head. "He kept his weapons of mass destruction hidden from me. All I know is that there is an area of the base that functioned as an underground bunker. It's on the north side of the base. There are four access tunnels leading down into the underground area, but they're blocked off by metal bars."

"That sounds like they could be exhaust vents," Scarlet suggested. "That's my guess as to where the nuke is going to be."

"I think you're right," said Fox, turning his attention back to Krystal. "There's one other thing I want to know."

Krystal looked expectantly at him.

"Where is the command center? If Rafa is somewhere in the base, he's going to be there."

"You're correct," Krystal replied. "He spends most of his time there. The command center is at the top of a three-story building that resembles an aircraft control tower. There is a backup command center deep underground, beneath the tower; but he prefers the main one. The tower is on the south side of the base. The building is heavily guarded by anti-air guns, so it can't be easily attacked from the sky."

"What about the personnel at the base?" asked Fox.

"Last time I was there, the base stationed a small armored vehicle unit and about two hundred soldiers. I know—it's a lot to take on. We're going to need your friends to give us some top-notch air support if we're going to have a chance."

"They'll be a good diversion," said Fox. "You're right, though. Everybody needs to bring their A-game, or we're all going to end up dead."

All three vixens looked on in grim silence until Fox spoke up again. "Here's what we're going to do once we're in the base: Scarlet, you and Rena will fight your way to the nuclear control center. You'll need this." He reached into his pocket and pulled out the USB drive given to him by General Pepper. He stood up and handed it to Rena.

"What's this?" she asked, her voice morose and broken.

"It contains a virus that will shut down the equipment operating a nuclear launch system. Plug it in and your work is done. And don't even think about trying to hold onto it for yourself."

Rena solemnly nodded and slipped the USB drive into a tiny compartment in her combat suit.

"Meanwhile," Fox added, "Krystal and I will fight our way to the command tower and deal with Rafa."

Krystal's eyes opened wide. "Fox, no! That's a terrible idea!"

"Yeah, it really is," Scarlet added. "Why couldn't you two just help me and Rena deal with the missile? That's all we're really here for."

Fox crossed his arms. "You don't understand. Rafa destroyed my life a month ago. If we stop his weapons, sure, he'll lose the war. But he'll live on, and knowing how these things go, he'll go on to become a problem again later. I won't be satisfied until he's dead."

Scarlet raised an eyebrow. "Wow, that's pretty hardcore."

Without speaking, Krystal gave him a knowing look and telepathically communicated, _"Becoming a bit villainous now, are you? I told you we weren't so different."_

The blue vixen's subconscious implication shook him, but he collected himself and continued his previous statement. He looked at Scarlet, then Rena. "I maintain my position. Krystal and I are going to find and deal with Rafa. We'll draw fire away from you two by doing that, so you'll have an easier time planting the bug."

Scarlet sighed. "If you say so, Fox."

From the front of the helicopter, Slippy announced, "Hey guys, we're getting close to the LZ. You might want to get ready."

Upon hearing his teammate, Fox turned his attention to Krystal. "That reminds me—you need to pick your weapons. Go ahead and look through this weapons crate here." He pointed to a long, horizontal black box that sat near the back of the helicopter's cargo area.

The vixen stood up and walked towards the crate, unclipping the clasp holding the top in place. Once opened, she pulled the lid open and looked inside. A standard issue assault rifle, a submachine gun, a battle rifle, and both a semi-automatic and fully automatic pistol rested on top of a sheet of gray foam, but the one non-firearm inside the crate piqued her interest. She reached out her hand and clutched the item—the black staff formerly used by the telekinetic siren in Papetoon and retrieved by Slippy after the woman's death.

Clipping the staff to her back, she picked up the assault rifle and reclaimed her seat next to Rena. Fox noticed the staff and cocked his head. "You're using _that?"_

"I've seen this staff before," Krystal replied. "It has a secret." To demonstrate, she pulled the weapon off her back and held it horizontally. A small trigger jutted out from the staff's handle, and she gave it a gentle squeeze. A tiny flame flickered out of a small barrel below the staff's pointed tip.

"A flamethrower? Really?"

"That's right," Krystal replied before she once again holstered the weapon.

Fox leaned forward to look out of the helicopter's front canopy. A vast pine forest stretched out in front of the aircraft. Two miles in the distance, the unmistakable cone of a once-mighty volcano loomed over the trees where rivers of molten lava once flowed. Within a minute, Slippy located a clearing in the forest and lowered the chopper to the ground.

When the landing skids touched down, Fox stood up and opened the side door closest to him. The three women followed him as he jumped out and slipped on the pine needles that covered the forest floor. After the four had disembarked, Slippy ascended into the sky once again, preparing to provide the team with additional fire support.

Fox took a deep motivational breath and pulled his assault rifle off his back. He glanced upwards through the tree canopy in time to see his team's cargo plane fly overhead with the rear loading ramp down. Falco, Katt, and Bill flanked the plane in the event that enemies inside the command base tried to stage an attack.

The four foxes watched as the Landmaster rolled out of the back and plummeted towards the ground before its parachute deployed. With the help of the massive cut of fabric, it floated gracefully towards the forest floor until the chute disappeared beneath the limbs. After dropping the tank, Peppy activated the cargo plane's active camouflage and disappeared from view. The three fighters broke off and headed in the direction of the base.

Fox brought his eyes back to ground level. "All right—let's meet up with Hartmann and my dad. We're going to follow them to the entrance. Krystal—is there a road around here?"

"Yes," the blue vixen replied. "We're not too far from it. I'll show you where to go."

* * *

 _-_ § _-_

* * *

Deep underground, beneath the command base's main control center, Dr. Brackett tapped at his keyboard. His bespectacled eyes darted across the large computer screen in front of him. At the moment, the details of Rafa's blood factor filtered across the display. In what Dr. Brackett knew would be the final phase of the war with Corneria one way or another, he took responsibility for Rafa's vision of imbuing more of their foot soldiers with their leader's supervulpine abilities. Previously, Rafa had sought to keep his powers secret; but now, with his empire's existence on the line, he knew he needed every advantage he could attain.

Engrossed in his work, Dr. Brackett jumped in shock when his operation assistant—a sprightly otter with an odd haircut that covered the entire right side of his head but kept the left side bare apart from his natural brown fur—touched his shoulder.

"Egads! What is it, Morren?"

The young assistant replied, "The radar is telling me that five unidentified aircraft have entered our airspace."

Dr. Brackett narrowed his already narrow eyes. "That's peculiar. Who do you suspect they might be?"

"Cornerians."

"Oh dear…" the aged avian scientist groaned. "It appears as though they did not appreciate our dear leader's overture to their Prime Minister. The MOAN will have to be launched, then."

Morren seemed unenthused. "Doctor—listen to me. If they're coming for us, you know what this means: we're screwed. East Fortuna is going to lose the war, even if our missile cripples their entire country. They'll go nuclear in retaliation, and we'll be wiped off the map in less than an hour from now. They know where we are, too. They must have somehow gotten past the GPS gridlock."

"Probably a mole," Brackett muttered, albeit with a lack of intensity that seemed out of place given his pending life-and-death scenario. "What is your suggestion, Morren?"

"We need to get out of this lab _now_ , get ourselves a jeep, and drive as fast and as far away from here as possible. This base is their first nuclear target if Rafa even touches his big red button."

A look of dreadful seriousness appeared on Dr. Brackett's avian face. "Morren, you are a gentleman and a scholar. You're right—we need to escape." He moved to stand up, but a disturbing thought kept his rear in his chair. "Wait—there's a good chance that even if Corneria strikes this base with a nuclear weapon, this area were are sitting in may be left intact. That means that Andross's research will remain on file down here, which then in turn could mean…"

"…The Cornerians will find it later," Morren finished in a deadpan voice.

"Indeed," said Dr. Brackett. "We must destroy the research and escape with the backup files, which I have on this hard drive." He reached for a charcoal-colored rectangular device with a cable sticking out of it and shoved it into his lab coat's front pocket. "Morren, we must make haste. Help me wipe the database. The instant the file dump is completed, we will make our escape."

"Yes, sir."

* * *

 _AUTHOR'S NOTE(S):_

 _This is the second version of this chapter. The dogfight was not in the original draft, but was added in later._


	51. Incendiary Atonement

**Arc X: A Nuclear Error**

 _Part 3: Incendiary Atonement_

Thanks to its quiet engine, the Landmaster crept along the forest road while making no more noise than a pedestrian diesel truck. The tank bore the dark green over dull yellow paint scheme of the East Fortunan army as part of an attempt to blend in once they reached the gate. Fox and his teammates knew they would have to start shooting to gain entrance regardless of how well their tank passed as one of Rafa's, but the closer they could get to the base without being questioned, the better.

Fox and the three vixens sat on the back of the tank while James popped up from below and stood at the controls of the Landmaster's secondary machinegun. With a mile to go in order to reach the base, James struck up a conversation.

"I've got to say, it feels good to be back in action again."

Fox frowned. "Dad, I know you don't want to hear this from me, but I'm scared for you."

The elder vulpine waved him off. "Bah—I'll be fine. I'm in a tank!"

"…Which makes you the biggest target in the entire base apart from Slippy's helicopter, and that's a big maybe."

"Whatever. I was made for this. Retirement is boring. Well, maybe I shouldn't say that. With Mystic, things are much, much more entertaining, if you know what I mean." He flirtatiously raised his eyebrows twice.

Fox felt the desire to throw up off the back of the tank. "You realize you're marrying an East Fortunan spy, right?"

James shrugged. "Hey—I turned her to the good side. She just couldn't keep working for those tight-asses when the other option was to taste my sweet love."

"Fark, you are so annoying," Rena grumbled.

Looking at James with an exaggerated, pouty expression, Scarlet moaned, "James baby, does that mean we can't get together and have some PG-13-rated fun anymore?"

"Sorry, sweetheart—I'm afraid not."

"Wait, wait, wait," Fox spoke up, "I thought you two were done with that."

Scarlet shook her head, grinning from ear to ear. "Why stop when you've got a good thing going?"

Wedged between Fox and Scarlet, Krystal lowered her head and gritted her teeth. "I don't believe my ears right now."

"Say," James added, "How do you know Fox?"

"I'd prefer not to talk about it," Krystal replied, looking over her shoulder.

"Ah, the quiet, shy type. Those are always fun after you get them to open up a bit."

Krystal breathed out an exasperated sigh. "Is that all you can think of? What is wrong with you?"

Scarlet smirked and glanced back at James. "Don't worry about her. She comes from a different culture where chastity and monogamy are sacrosanct."

Baring her teeth, Krystal smacked the red vixen in the shoulder and insisted, "I just want to see some common decency! Have you no shame?"

"That's a 'no,'" Fox groaned.

From inside the tank, Hartmann shouted, "Hey, shut up back there! We're coming up on the base! Get off the tank and walk behind it so they don't see you!"

The four dropped their jocularity in the blink of an eye and hopped off the back of the tank. To give them cover, Hartmann slowed the Landmaster to three miles per hour above walking speed. Fox and the three vixens had to jog to keep up, but none of them struggled to do so. As the group rounded a bend on the dirt-covered forest road, a wire fence appeared ahead. Two concrete guard booths stood on the sides of the entrance, and several East Fortunan soldiers focused on the strange tank as it approached. However, none of them drew their weapons, suggesting that the Landmaster's camouflage looked convincing enough.

As the tank came within two hundred feet of the closed gate, four of the soldiers moved into a circle and chatted amongst themselves. Their mannerisms made it clear that something seemed unusual about the Landmaster. Then, one of the four soldiers—the same dull-furred vulpine who had alerted Rafa to Fyvve's fate—jogged towards the approaching tank with his rifle in hand. Hartmann and James prepared to open fire.

At that moment, the sound of another engine filled the air. From inside the base, a wildly driven jeep tore through the mesh gate, bending the metal and ripping it off its hinges. The vehicle spun out of control after clearing the gate and crashed into the right side guard booth, but not before flattening and killing two East Fortunan soldiers.

"Whoa! Dead friendlies! Open fire!"

The four soldiers outside the guard booths took aim at the renegade jeep and riddled it with bullets as it reversed and took off down the road, tires flinging mud into the air. While the jeep picked up speed and drove away from the base, four additional guards ran out of the two guard booths and opened fire on the fleeing vehicle.

Its front end mangled and its bumper dragging on the ground, the military jeep sped towards the Landmaster. At the last second, its driver swerved to the left and skidded by on the side of the road. As the jeep passed him, Fox noticed a cardinal in the driver's seat and a terrified otter with a strange haircut riding shotgun. The jeep made no attempt at slowing down and continued away from the base.

That is, until James casually rotated his machinegun turret and ripped it to shreds. The vehicle swerved off the dirt road and plowed head-on into a robust pine tree. The engine began smoking; and the smoke turned to fire in mere seconds. Neither of the two occupants climbed out of the burning car.

With the guards on high alert and distracted by the rogue jeep, Hartmann realized that he had a momentary window of opportunity to take action.

"Fire in the hole!"

The Landmaster's cannon roared to life, launching a shell towards the two guard posts. A spray of dirt and concrete flew into the air, along with four soldiers who had been unfortunate enough to be in the blast radius. The remaining four troops stumbled back before taking aim at the tank and peppering it with small arms fire.

Fox and the three vixens leaped out from behind the Landmaster and lined up the four East Fortunans. A quick series of gunshots dropped their bodies to the ground, leaving the entrance to the base unguarded for the moment.

Hartmann drove the tank forwards and fired on the rolling gate. The exploding shell ripped the metal into warped, curved shreds and cleared the way into the base.

"Here we go!" he yelled into his radio.

The tank rumbled over the ruins of the gate and entered the base, followed by the four vulpines. At the same time, Slippy moved in with his helicopter to provide air support. The instant the first tank shot went off, Falco, Katt, and Bill stopped circling the base from afar and moved to strike the facility's defensive assets.

An air raid siren ripped through the airwaves not a moment later, alerting every soldier in the base to an enemy attack.

Pure adrenaline coursed through Fox's veins as he raced to keep up with Hartmann and James in the tank. He kept his eyes centered on the red dot in the middle of his gunsight, ready to take down as many enemy troops as possible. A complex of ten simplistic troop quarters occupied the space to both his left and right and created a concrete road between the buildings. Both sets of staff quarters backed up to the base's perimeter walls, effectively creating a narrow choke point that opened up drastically after the living spaces ended. Farther ahead, Fox laid eyes on the command tower, standing three stories above the ground.

"This is going to get messy!" Scarlet shouted over the sound of the helicopter overhead and the blaring siren.

Scores of armed troops poured out of the crew quarters, immediately taking aim at the Landmaster. While Fox and the vixens trailed the tank, Hartmann fired the cannon at the left set of buildings. Chunks of concrete split from the structures, and more bodies went flying. At the same time, Slippy maneuvered the helicopter overhead and rained down a storm of minigun fire on the soldiers below. James covered the buildings on the right side of the choked-off entry area with the tank's turret.

Fox and Krystal broke off to the left and pressed up against the side of the first concrete living space in the line of five, while Scarlet and Rena mirrored their movements on the opposite side of the 'road'.

Poking his head and rifle out from behind cover, Fox took down two East Fortunans firing on the tank. He aimed across the corridor between the buildings a second later, downing a feline soldier who had just emerged from the structure that Scarlet and Rena were using for cover.

He checked the number of rounds left in his magazine and pulled back behind the corner of the building. He glanced at Krystal out of the corner of his eye. Without being asked, the vixen said, "There's fifteen more in this area. Ten on the right and five on the left. Follow me—I've got an idea."

Despite not fully trusting Krystal, Fox obeyed her and followed her footsteps as she sprinted towards the back of the staff quarters and poked her head out from behind. She spotted two soldiers in the narrow alleyway between the buildings and the perimeter wall and took them down in short order while they focused on shooting Slippy's helicopter.

The instant their bodies hit the ground, she waved for Fox to move with her. The two crouched and moved down the alleyway, checking the gaps between the five buildings. An Alsatian soldier jumped out from the corner of the third building, only to be hit by Fox's bullets before he could line up his sights.

"Fox! Cover!" Krystal shouted. She darted for the nearest corner and grabbed Fox by the shoulder, pulling him with a force that belied her seemingly delicate frame. The instant the two pressed against the side of staff building number three, another soldier opened fire on the spot they had been a second before. Suppressing fire chipped away at the corner of the building perilously close to Fox's muzzle. A second later, a burst of fire from James's mounted turret cut him down.

Krystal closed her eyes for three seconds, then looked at Fox. "Two left. The others are dealing with them. It's time to move up. You need to tell your friends to split up now."

Fox turned to his right and looked into the blue vixen's hypnotizing aquamarine eyes. He swore he saw a faint glow in them. "You're incredible."

Krystal blushed. "Thank you," she cooed, taking the opportunity to pat Fox on the shoulder. Her expression became grim a mere second later. "But, Fox…"

"What is it?"

"About Rafa—we can't kill him. We really shouldn't go after him. We should do what Her Redness told you to do and help her and your yellow friend with the missile."

Anger radiated from Fox's eyes. "Why the hell can't we go after Rafa?"

"He has a blood factor that makes him invincible," Krystal replied. "I never knew how it was possible until you told me about the bandits raiding my people's Fields of Life. He must have had someone engineer that medicine into a form that gives him rapid healing abilities. Bullets don't work on him—not even headshots. I don't think it's possible to kill him."

A flashback played in Fox's mind. The world around him became blurry and slowed to a crawl as he recalled Rena obliterating the phantasmal black vixen with the Landmaster's cannon. Returning to the present, he nodded his head and told Krystal, "He's mortal. If it bleeds, we can kill it."

Krystal smacked her face with her palm. "You've got to be joking."

"I'm not. Explosives will work on him. Trust me."

The blue vixen lowered her head. "Fox, I don't think this is a good idea; but I'm not in command here. It's up to you to decide. I'll follow you. Please, don't be foolish."

Krystal's words increased his trust of her by leaps and bounds. Nodding, he replied, "My mind is clear. Now, let's move. The command tower is next."

* * *

 _-_ § _-_

* * *

After clearing the narrow entry area, Scarlet and Rena emerged into a wide open expanse of concrete interspersed with small buildings and guard towers. To their left, a thousand feet distant, stood the command tower. Anti-aircraft weapons dotted an elevated flat surface built up to the second floor. The guns kept up a constant spray of fire, deterring Falco, Bill, and Katt from flying too close to Rafa's seat of power. Soldiers rushed out from the area around the command tower and opened fire on the team's vehicles as well as Fox and Krystal.

Rena stared to her right, towards the north end of the base. Five hundred meters across the flat pavement, she spotted a slightly elevated round area that sported a metallic appearance. Two guard towers lined the wide stretch of concrete leading to the underground silo, and twelve oversized personnel tents stood on both sides of the apparent path, which was marked by vehicle tire tracks. Yet more soldiers poured out from their quarters and joined the fight.

While Slippy fought off the troops taking aim at Hartmann and James in the Landmaster, the troops coming from the right spotted Scarlet and Rena and fired on them. Both vixens sprinted for the nearby perimeter wall at the end of the entry corridor and pressed their backs against it while bullets chipped away at the edge of the concrete barrier.

Rena narrowed her eyes and looked at Scarlet. "They're keeping the missile in the raised area down there. We've got to get past those goons and the guard towers."

Scarlet cursed under her breath. "Dammit—we'll never get there without some serious firepower. Hold on—I've got an idea." While bullets continued peppering their location, Scarlet pulled her hand radio out of her utility belt and yelled into it, "Hey, we need air support if we're going to get to that missile!"

Two seconds later, Bill replied, _"_ _You got it. Thunderhog incoming—watch your heads!"_

Scarlet craned her neck out from behind cover while Rena looked up. Bill's squatty attack fighter dropped altitude and targeted the wide expanse separating them from the underground missile silo. As he soared over the vixen's heads, Bill unleashed a volley of rocket fire on the crew quarters. Explosions roiled the base. Both guard towers collapsed as fires broke out inside the large tents lining the path to the silo.

The moment the rockets detonated, Rena darted out from behind cover and surveyed the path ahead.

"We need to move now!" she shouted.

Scarlet looked around the corner as Bill circled around for another strike. "Are you kidding me? We're going to be in the line of fire!"

"You heard what I said! Farking move, bitch!" Rena snapped, punching Scarlet in the chest. Before the red vixen could retaliate, Rena broke into a sprint and sprayed her submachine gun at the small number of soldiers who had survived the rocket volley. None of the bullets hit, but the base's troops found themselves unable to shoot back after the shock of the aerial strike. Instead of shooting back at Rena and Scarlet, they fled for their lives.

Rena darted to the right and ran behind the burning tents on the right side of the corridor. The base's perimeter wall ran twenty feet to her right. Scarlet kicked up her heels and pursued the furious yellow vixen. With the help of her leg implants and her natural athleticism, Rena reached 25 miles per hour. Behind her, she heard the sound of jet engines as Bill flew in for a second pass. This time, Katt accompanied him with her pink fighter.

A second volley of rockets and a cluster bomb smashed into the area, shredding pavement and eviscerating the makeshift structures in the area. Adrenaline operating in full force, Rena cleared the tent city and turned around. Scarlet trailed her by fifty feet as explosions filled the background. Apart from the furious grimace on her face, the scene would have made for an incredible movie frame.

Finally catching up to Rena, she pulled back her arm and lashed out at her, but the yellow vixen dodged the punch. "Why so slow? You need to lose some weight."

"Fuck you," Scarlet hissed.

Rena moved away from Scarlet and stared at the raised edge of the underground silo. No obvious entry point presented itself.

" _As I expected—the controls are probably somewhere farther down the line. These people wouldn't want to be anywhere near that missile when it launches. Fark."_ She continued scanning the area in hopes of seeing a small building or even an underground entrance, but nothing except more distant staff tents and vehicle hangars stood out to her.

Then, she looked to her right. Two hundred feet from her, she noticed a depression in the concrete. It looked like a shallow ramp leading underground towards the center of the missile silo.

At that moment, the sound of an exploding rocket reached her ears. Both she and Scarlet craned their heads to the left in time to see Slippy's helicopter spin out of control and go down in flames near the westernmost part of the base.

Scarlet froze. "Oh no—not Slippy!"

"Fark," Rena growled. "How are supposed to get out of here now?"

Rena's realization dawned on Scarlet. "Oh no—I can't die here! What are we going to do now?"

While she worried about the loss of their only obvious way out of enemy territory other than her own two feet, a squad of soldiers ran out from behind a nearby warehouse with an APC in tow.

Rena's eyes went wide. "Fark! Run!"

"Where?" Scarlet screamed.

The yellow vixen pointed towards the depression in the ground. "There!"

"That's suicide!"

No sooner had she spoken than the East Fortunan platoon opened fire on her. The bullets whizzed past her as the enemy APC took aim. With a terrified yip, she chased after Rena and jumped into the depression, which descended deeper underground and morphed into a tunnel after thirty feet. Inside the shaft, the only light that existed came from behind them. However, as the two vixens ventured deeper into the tunnel, they noticed a distant red glow far in the distance.

Unfortunately, a set of four upright metal bars prevented them from moving any farther. With her heart pounding in her chest, Scarlet leaned against the barrier and looked over her shoulder. No one seemed to be in pursuit.

"What now?" she asked Rena.

Rena took a deep breath and pulled her trusty pizza wheel out of its holster on her waist. She gazed fondly at the implement for a moment, then powered up the blade. "We're going in. The missile is at the end of the tunnel."

Scarlet moved back, ears and tail erect as Rena sawed through the bars with her absurdly sharp blade. She made precise incisions in two of the bars, allowing her to carve out a space that she and Scarlet could fit through. Swinging her legs through the newly-created opening, she turned to Scarlet and waved for her to follow.

The red vixen hesitated, then swallowed. Something about the tunnel instilled in her a primal fear that she could not explain.

" _Those bars were designed to keep us out for a reason."_

On the other side of the bars, Rena shouted, "Come on, let's move!" and broke into a sprint. However, this time, she moved slowly enough for Scarlet to keep up. Every footstep brought them closer to the red light at the end of the tunnel. As the ruddy glow grew brighter and brighter, the ominous outline of an ICBM appeared.

Suddenly, a klaxon alarm blared through the tunnel. The earth shook, and a rumbling sound rose to compete with the alarm in a horrifying war of volume. The light in the distance alternated between bright and dull red.

Both vixens came to a complete stop and stared aghast at each other. They both knew what was happening.

Rafa had given the order to launch the missile.

Sheer panic gripped Scarlet. She stared at the still-distant missile, knowing that she had failed her mission. Millions would die because of her failure. She wondered if she had been more confident with her firearm upon entering the base, she would have been able to reach the missile in time to stop it. Hypotheticals about the past meant nothing now, though. The only hypothetical that mattered was where the missile would fly and where it would unleash its thermonuclear devastation.

" _No! This can't be happening!"_

While she panicked, clouds of smoke billowed from the ICBM's dual engines. The warm dawn glow from outside radiated into the silo, indicating that the shroud masking the missile had retracted.

Her focus was forcibly dragged away from the missile when Rena lightly punched her in the stomach to get her attention.

"Listen to me!" Rena yelled, her voice determined, anxious, and even mournful. "You've got to get out of here! Save yourself!"

"What about you?" Scarlet shouted back.

The yellow vixen hung her head and glanced at the missile out of the corner of her eye. "This world has seen enough of me."

Scarlet took a step back, and for the first time, she looked at Rena with sympathy.

Her lack of action incensed Rena, who folded her ears back in rage and bared every one of her razor-sharp teeth. "Are you farking kidding me? Run! Get out of here!"

Scarlet took one momentary glance at the missile, then nodded her head. She turned and sprinted back towards the entrance to the subterranean shaft, pushing her body to its limit to escape the inevitable plume of smoke and rocket fire that would begin filling the tunnel at any second. Upon reaching the metal bars designed to prevent entry to the tunnel, she stopped and looked over her shoulder for one last look at Rena. Then, she swung her legs through the gap in the bars and headed out of the tunnel.

While Scarlet made her escape, Rena ran in the opposite direction—towards the missile. With every second, the ICBM's surface became more obscured by smoke. The volume from its engines increased. She knew she had mere seconds to act. Fifty meters separated her from the missile, but the increasingly stifling cloud reduced her visibility to near zero. As the smoke built up, she forced herself to hold her breath.

A flash of bright orange lit up the tunnel. Rena knew what it meant.

She glanced at her pizza cutter, then pulled it back and hurled it towards the missile while screaming at the top of her lungs.

"Pizahoīra kōgeki!"

A second later, the missile's exhaust flame consumed her.

* * *

 _-_ § _-_

* * *

"Krystal! Stay behind the tank!"

The vixen nervously followed Fox's lead as he used the advancing Landmaster to avoid the innumerable bullets flying in their direction. The number of troops near the command tower dwarfed the amount of defenders near the entrance. The command tower itself loomed large, now only three hundred feet away. Over forty East Fortunans dug in near the tower, using the nearby supply buildings and warehouses as cover. Bullets riddled the Landmaster's armor, and Fox knew that it could only last so much longer.

All the while, James kept up his machinegun fire with the tank's turret, although he lowered his head and fired blindly to avoid being domed by enemy gunshots. Slippy hovered nearby with the attack helicopter, ripping apart enemy troops whenever the chance presented itself.

" _Shit, guys!"_ Hartmann yelled into his radio. _"_ _I can't take much more of this!"_

Seconds later, Bill made an announcement. _"_ _Hey, just a heads up here, but there's a tank unit headed your way from the west side of the base."_

" _You're going to have to deal with it!"_ Hartmann shouted back. _"_ _I've kind of got my hands full! Slippy—do something about those guys on the left side of the command tower! I think I just saw one of them grab a MANPAT launcher!"_

Maintaining his distance from the command tower to avoid being gunned down by the persistent anti-aircraft fire coming from the back end of the building, Slippy rotated in the direction indicated by Hartmann. He happened to glance to his right with his peripheral vision. To his horror, two heavy gunship helicopters rose up from pads located next to the runway on the base's westernmost edge.

"Uh, Hartmann—I'm a bit busy up here."

The husky looked through the Landmaster's virtual viewing lens and noticed the approaching gunships, bristling with missiles and rocket pods. _"_ _Oh shit! Air support! We need air support_ now! _"_

" _I gotcha,"_ Falco replied.

Ice cold hands clutching the steering yoke, Slippy rotated his helicopter to the right and took aim at the enemy gunships. While strafing to his right, he fired off the chopper's minigun, striking the gunship on the right in the cockpit. The enemy chopper spun out of control and plummeted towards the ground. He had no time to celebrate, however.

The second gunship launched a heat-seeking missile at him. Eyes wide, he banked his helicopter as far as he could safety pull and angled the nose forward. The missile flashed by him, missing him by the narrowest of margins. He rotated to the left a second later, lining up his guns on the remaining gunship.

" _Hey, watch out, Slippy!"_

Before the amphibian could shoot the gunship, an air-to-air missile smashed into the side of it and sent it crashing down to earth. Falco's Arwing flew through the airspace a moment later.

Slippy breathed a tense sigh of relief. He rotated his helicopter back towards the command tower and resumed his aerial defense of the Landmaster, only to hear Fox's panicked voice scream through his radio.

" _Slippy! Someone's got a lock on you!"_

"Huh? Wha…"

Before he could take action, a soldier on the ground fired a Stinger missile at him from less than two hundred feet away. With so little distance and such a large surface area to strike, the missile hit the side of the helicopter and caused immediate catastrophic damage.

Slippy screamed and tried to regain control of his helicopter, but nothing he could do prevented the chopper from spinning out of control and dropping like a stone towards the hard concrete near the west end of the base.

"Help me!"

From behind the tank, Fox watched Slippy crash into the side of a distant warehouse. The chopper caught fire within seconds, and the warehouse roof collapsed a moment later. Eyes wide, Fox shouted into his radio, "Hartmann, Dad! You've got to help him! Get over there! I'll handle the tower!"

Hartmann responded with shock in his voice. _"_ _Are you kidding, Fox? You're going to get killed in seconds!"_

"You heard what I said, _Bruno!_ Do it! Go! He's going to die if you don't help him!"

" _He's probably dead already!"_ the husky snarled. _"_ _Okay—whatever. Your funeral. Fine."_

The Landmaster shot forward and headed towards the distant wreckage of Slippy's helicopter. The troops near the command tower continued peppering the tank with bullets. As the tank sped off, it neared a series of warehouse buildings. Around the corner of the buildings to the right, two main battle tanks appeared. Hartmann wasted no time in blasting the first tank with the Landmaster's turret. It went up in flames. At the same time, Bill dropped altitude and unleashed a flurry of bullets on the remaining tank. In mere seconds, it suffered the same fate as the first.

Fox and Krystal had other problems to deal with. The Landmaster driving off left them completely exposed to enemy fire. The two sprinted to their left and pressed their backs against a munitions warehouse, which Krystal's telepathy identified as unoccupied. Her chest rose and fell as she looked at Fox and said, "The door to the command tower is blastproof and only opens to certain types of ID. I used to have a working ID card, but I'm sure Rafa's disabled it by this point. We only have one option—take someone else's card and use it to open the door."

"Who carries them?" asked Fox.

"All the officers do. I think I saw your father kill one of them earlier. He was behind the building between this one and the command tower."

Fox nodded. "How many other troops are nearby?"

The blue vixen closed her eyes and focused. When she opened them, she shook her head and replied, "Fifteen. There are seven of them around the next building. Listen to me, Fox—there's something I need to do."

"What's that?" Fox looked back with unease in his eyes.

"I need to build a telepathic connection with you."

"Krystal, now is not a good time!" Fox snapped.

Krystal looked defiantly at him. "It's a matter of life and death. I can't keep having to call out enemy locations. You need to be able to pinpoint them at the speed of thought if we're going to get out of this alive."

Fox nodded in resignation. "Okay, then. What do I have to do?"

"Just stand still and hold off anyone who tries to come our way. I have to be completely focused for this to work. I'm going to put my hand on your forehead. There is…" she cleared her throat, "…Another, more enjoyable way to establish a mental link, but we don't have time for that now."

Fox obeyed and aimed his rifle to his left, out towards the open area in the main part of the base. At the moment, most of the enemy's fire targeted Hartmann in the Landmaster and the airplanes buzzing around the base. This left him and Krystal in relative safety, although Fox understood that the remaining troops near the command tower knew where he was camping out. He feared the possibility of an expert grenade toss.

While he took aim and waited for an enemy to venture his way, Krystal placed her hand on his forehead. The warmth of her touch and the angelic softness of her fur gave his mind a sensation of temporary relaxation. Or was that her telepathic mind's doing? While holding her hand against his skull, the vixen closed her eyes and breathed deeply. As the seconds passed, Fox felt a tickling sensation on his brain.

When Krystal opened her eyes again, a strange feeling encompassed Fox. He felt as though his mind had merged with hers. Her emotions competed with his in his mind, and her thought processes became clear to him. At the same time, he became aware of the enemy soldiers' locations nearby. Wide-eyed, he stared at Krystal.

"How is this possible?"

" _I'm not the one to ask,"_ Krystal replied, using only her mind to respond.

Fox shook his head in disbelief, but he steeled himself for the task at hand. Realizing that he could communicate with his thoughts, he closed his mouth and dictated his next plan of action.

" _Time to go for the tower. Let's swipe the ID card from the dead officer nearby and get in as quickly as possible."_ A second later, a thought occurred to him. _"_ _Hold up, Krystal. I need to take care of something."_

The vixen watched as he pulled his phone out of his pocket and dialed a familiar extension back in Corneria. Seconds later, the unmistakable voice of General Pepper reached his ears.

" _General Pepper here—what's the situation?"_

Fox answered in short order. "General, we're outside the enemy command tower. My teammates are working on uploading the virus into the missile launch system as we speak. If you're going to shoot down Rafa's orbital weapon, now's the time to do it."

" _Indeed,_ _"_ Pepper replied. _"_ _I will give the order now. Thank you for your work, Fox. With the failure of East Fortuna'_ _s WMD_ _'s, we will achieve ultimate victory. Come back in one piece, and I can personally guarantee you a hero's welcome."_

Fox let a small grin work its way onto his face. "Thank you, sir." Closing the call, he shoved the phone back into his pocket and motioned for Krystal to follow him.

With the vixen's telepathy acting as his own for the time being, he felt the location of every enemy soldier in the area. As he stepped out from behind the warehouse into the main open area, he detected an enemy grunt darting out from an identical warehouse that stood between him and the command tower. He lined up his sights and pulled the trigger the instant the soldier came into view, scoring an immediate headshot.

The sound of bullets caused five other soldiers to rush out from behind cover and target Fox, but he saw them coming before they moved a muscle. With Krystal's help, he lined them up and dropped them to the ground with the ease of a marksman shooting training targets.

" _There's only one left,"_ Krystal dictated. _"_ _He's injured on the back side of the warehouse, next to the dead officer. He doesn't pose a threat."_

" _That's all I needed to know,"_ Fox replied. While checking the open area for approaching targets, he crouched and rounded the corner of the next building. On the ground lay the body of a lupine officer, downed by one of James's high caliber machinegun rounds.

Nearby, a lanky coyote soldier sat with his back against the warehouse. Blood covered his clothes, and he shivered at both the sensation of coldness and pain. His rifle lay on the ground next to him, but he made no attempt at picking it up. He stared at Krystal with pain-filled eyes and whimpered, "You dirty traitor. Why are you doing this to us?"

While Fox knelt next to the dead officer and searched his clothing for something resembling an ID card, Krystal approached the dying soldier with regret in her countenance. She crouched in front of him and whispered, "I made a mistake."

"Damn right you did," the soldier huffed, coughing up drops of blood. "We sacrificed our lives for our general's cause. We put everything we had on the line to make East Fortuna a sovereign nation, and what do you do? You turn tail on us when things start to look rough. I hope you burn in hell for a long time after you die."

Krystal sighed. She knew he only knew her as Rafa's acquaintance, not as the multi-billionaire heiress responsible for visualizing and bankrolling Rafa's entire operation. Yet, the dying soldier's words rang true to her. These men and women had thrown away their lives for the cause she herself had created, only to turn her back on it later. The best case scenario for them was an awkward re-introduction into society in a war-ravaged land that would appear in the annals of history as the site of one of the most futile armed conflicts in centuries.

Seconds later, the coyote soldier breathed his last. Krystal shed a tear, partially for him, but mostly for herself. She stared at the ground until Fox approached her from behind and put his hand on her shoulder. "I got the card. What's wrong?"

The vixen looked at him with misty eyes. "I never realized how much hurt I caused. I ran this country into the ground. Thousands of lives—gone because of my stupid nostalgia."

Determination laced Fox's voice. "I won't forgive you for it, and they won't either. But you can move on and work to make things better from now on, starting with Rafa."

Krystal stood up straight and looked to her right. The side of the command tower loomed over both her and Fox, its dark gray exterior shadowing it in the early dawn light. "Let's finish this, then."

Fox and Krystal rounded the other corner at the back of the warehouse and moved towards the front. They crossed the concrete towards the command tower's heavy entry door, located squarely at the front of the base level. Bullets flew from around the base, but the immediate area was deathly quiet. A feeling of dread fell over both Fox and Krystal as they approached the front door.

Fox held out his stolen ID card and flashed it under an electronic scanner built into reinforced concrete next to the door latch. The scanner's light turned from red to green, and the door unlatched. He reached for it, only for Krystal to clamp down on his hand.

" _Let me go first. The stairwell is crawling with guards."_

She gave him no option to resist as she placed her rifle in its holster on her back and pulled out the black staff formerly used by the terrifying specter in Papetoon. Finger on the staff's tiny trigger, Krystal pushed through the front door with Fox following close behind her.

" _Whatever you do, don't slow down,"_ she warned him.

The blue vixen slammed her right shoulder into the door and pushed it open. The instant the door budged, she pressed and held down her staff's trigger. A tongue of fire leaped from the tiny barrel below the weapon's tip. The flames illuminated the small lobby inside the door, as well as the four soldiers lying in wait.

Krystal waved the weapon back and forth, sending flames throughout the room. All four soldiers screamed and fell to the ground, their clothes and fur igniting in seconds. Fox followed his blue counterpart into the entry area and mowed down the burning soldiers with his assault rifle.

" _There's more on the stairwell. Cover me, Fox,"_ Krystal implored him.

The blue vixen sprinted towards a door at the back of the entry room and rammed it open with Fox following mere feet behind. She reignited her flame staff and sprayed fire up the stairs, lighting up two guards who rounded the steps above her. While they fell to the ground and screamed, Krystal kept moving and darted up the stairs. The repeated banging of Fox's rifle behind her wracked her ears, but her telepathy kept her mind focused on the remaining troops.

The door to the second level flashed by. As she passed it and raced up the stairs to the top floor, the door behind her opened. At the same time, four more soldiers appeared at the top of the stairs ahead. Her heart jumped into her mouth at the realization that she had been hemmed in.

" _Help me, Fox!"_

While Krystal incinerated the troops at the top of the stairs leading to the final floor, Fox stepped into the doorway on the second level and fired through the opening door. His bullets killed one East Fortunan the instant the door cracked open, and a second bullet caught another soldier inside the adjacent room. Trailing Krystal up to the top floor, he turned around and walked backwards up the stairs. Seconds later, a third soldier ran out of the opened door. Thanks to his mental link with Krystal, he predicted his movements and shot him in the chest the instant he appeared. With no other guards pursuing him, he ran up the stairs and caught up with Krystal at the top. The final floor of the building was mainly a hallway, with a single door at the end of it. Both he and Krystal knew what it led to.

Taking a deep breath, Fox glanced at Krystal and marched towards the door. With his shared mental link, he felt Rafa's hideous presence on the other side.

But then, as he neared the door, Krystal screamed into his mind. _"_ _Get down, Fox!"_

Fox trusted his instincts and hit the floor a split second later. No sooner had he acted than a tremendous explosion ripped the door off its hinges and shredded the doorway itself to pieces. A yawning hole made of crumbling concrete took the place of the ruined door, which flew towards Fox and landed on him. Grumbling in pain, he shoved the metal panel off of himself and jumped to his feet. Krystal sprinted past him and grabbed him by the hand to pull him along more quickly.

The two burst through the ruined door frame and entered the final room.

Banks of computerized equipment littered the right wall, with numerous workstations and desks dotting the floor area near it. The left side of the area looked relatively uncluttered in comparison, with two long desks and neatly organized maps, blueprints, and charts stapled to the wall in front of them. The back of the room was marked by a wide, tall, blastproof Plexiglas window that offered a panoramic view of the entire command base.

But Fox and Krystal noticed little of it. Their attention centered on something—no, _someone—_ else _._

Rafa Ortega stood in front of the large electronic console on the right side of the room, holding a grenade launcher with a drum mag. With Fox and Krystal at too close of a range for him to risk firing it again, he scowled and placed the weapon on a nearby desk. Hatred in his eyes, he looked to his left and snatched up a ballistic shield that lay propped up against a nearby desk. Holding it in front of him, he stared down his hated former boss and the woman responsible for leading him to his current office, only to betray him.

"I should have known you'd show up," Rafa sneered. Pointing at Krystal, he said, "I always knew your idiotic obsession with Corneria's favorite mercenary would be your downfall. If you had half a brain, you would have known better than to abandon _your own empire."_

Krystal bared her teeth. "Listen, you monster—I know what you planned to do. You were going to kill me unless I did something about it. You couldn't deal with my conditions, so instead of trying to persuade me, you decided to kill your own blood instead. What a gentleman."

"You're not my blood," Rafa replied. "You married into the prestige and power of the Ortega family and corrupted its lineage. My blood is pure. I am the true descendant of the Empire here, not you."

"You know nothing of the Empire." Krystal quivered in anger.

The two stopped talking, which gave Fox an opportunity to speak. "The game's up, Rafa. You have no chance against us."

An evil glint appeared in Rafa's sallow, yellow eyes. "Actually, the opposite is true." He tapped a button on the smartwatch encircling his wrist and raised it to his lips. "Initiate orbital firing sequence."

Fox and Krystal jumped back as a previously-dark screen on the right wall lit up. The screen split into three segments, each showing a distant live snapshot of Northpoint, Southport, and Westend—the three largest cities in Corneria apart from its metropolitan capital.

"Look what you've done," said Rafa, "You've doomed these three cities and the millions of people who live in them. See for yourself what your actions have brought." He held out his free arm towards the screens, expecting fire to fall from the sky and obliterate all three cities at any given moment.

"Any second now…"

"It's going to happen—just you wait…"

"Come on, what the hell?"

After twenty seconds of no fiery death, an error message appeared on the screen, indicated by a flashing red triangle with an exclamation mark in its center.

Rafa clenched his fists and turned towards Fox.

A grim smile on his face, Fox crossed his arms and commented, "Looks like your fiery destruction isn't happening today, Rafa. Your satellite's in pieces."

The dull-furred vulpine stared at Fox in mixed hatred and disbelief, not understanding how the location of his satellite could have been revealed. For three seconds, he vented his rage. Then, he huffed, "All right, then. If that's how it's going to be, I have one…"

He marched over to the left side of his console, holding his shield towards Fox and Krystal as a way of protecting both himself and the most essential controls on the console.

"Last…"

He ran his eyes over the myriad switches and buttons on the control board.

"Trick…"

He spotted a large red button behind a piece of glass.

"Up…"

He shattered the glass with his fist.

"My…"

He put his finger on the button.

"Sleeve."

He pressed the button.

Immediately, the ground beneath them shook. On the other side of the base, the large, elevated, circular shroud covering his prized ballistic missile slid open. Smoke rose from inside the silo; and in seconds, the tip of the rocket lifted into view from the underground chamber.

Fox and Krystal stared aghast at the weapon as it ascended. Thanks to its colossal size, it lifted off the ground slowly; but it gained speed with every passing moment.

"Behold—the MOAN!" Rafa exulted.

Panic flooded Fox's mind. _"_ _No! Rena and Scarlet didn't get to the controls in time! Wait a second_ _—the controls are_ in here!"

The gargantuan missile emerged completely from the silo, fire spewing from its twin liquid-fueled engines that would propel it into orbit above the planet and position it for its deadly descent towards Corneria.

Fox watched helplessly as it rose ever higher. But then, something happened. One of the engines cut out. Without its full thrust, the rocket lost altitude and tipped sideways. It fell back towards earth, its only remaining engine still belching out fire and angling it to the left.

Rafa's triumphant expression turned to stone.

"What the…"

The MOAN unceremoniously plopped onto the concrete pavement next to the opened silo, but it did not explode. Its engine continued to burn, inching it along the ground. Then, the second engine came back online. The missile rocketed forwards, streaking across the open pavement.

From the distant command tower, Fox, Krystal, and Rafa watched in horror as the missile reached seventy miles per hour and headed straight towards a particularly large warehouse near the northwesternmost part of the base.

Krystal realized before the others what would become of them in mere seconds. She wrapped her arms around Fox and pulled him in for a tender embrace. "Goodbye, Fox. I love you."

Her words barely registered in his ears. His eyes focused on the racing missile as it crashed into the side of the warehouse. That instant, an explosion like none he had ever witnessed rocked the entire base. As much as he wanted to see the blast, Fox shielded his eyes to prevent himself from being blinded by the inevitable nuclear flash. He braced himself for the searing radioactive heat wave that would melt him in seconds, reducing him to nothingness in a screaming fireball of pain.

Two seconds passed before he realized that he was still alive. He opened his eyes, becoming cognizant of the fact that Krystal had buried her muzzle into his neck fur in dire affection for him. Looking out the window, he watched the fireball from the explosion rise into the sky. It seemed far too small for a nuclear weapon.

Then, he saw it—a tiny mushroom cloud rising from the roof of the destroyed warehouse across the base. The cloud was so microscopic that some actual mushrooms may have been larger.

Rafa stared at the mushroom-sized mushroom cloud in disbelief and screamed, "A fizzle?!"

A fraction of a second later, a second explosion rippled through the warehouse. A metal implement rocketed out of it, flew across the length of the base, and embedded itself in the blastproof observation window in the back of the room with a hollow 'thud.'

"Is that a…pizza wheel?" Krystal wondered aloud, squinting to make sure she had not slipped into a hallucination.

On the other side of the room, Rafa clenched his fists and yelled, "That yellow bitch!"

" _Great job, Rena,"_ thought Fox, unaware of her fiery fate.

Breathing heavily and refusing to release his balled-up fists, Rafa lowered his head and glared at Fox and Krystal through narrowed eyes. Every one of his teeth poked out from his mouth. His body shook from sheer, unadulterated rage. He realized that he truly had been defeated, and by the two people he wanted to kill the most.

"You may have beaten me," he snarled, his voice quivering, "…But I swear on my last dying breath that you will not leave this room alive."

He hurled his shield towards the right wall and ripped off his military jacket, revealing a black tank top and his heavily tattooed arms and chest.

"Arda en el infierno, bitches."

* * *

 _AUTHOR'S NOTE(S):_

 _All right, here it is. The next chapter is the Final Battle!  
_

 _*EDIT: I gave Rafa a shield because the question "Why don't they just shoot him?" was raised in the original version._


	52. Final Battle

**Arc X: A Nuclear Error**

FINAL BATTLE

 _Music: Napalm Poet (Original Mix) – Adam Ellis_

* * *

Fox raised his assault rifle and opened fire on Rafa. The spray of bullets tore into the dull-furred vulpine, but the bloodied bullet holes did little other than cause him pain. In response, Rafa charged towards Fox and smashed the gun out of his hands with his elbow. The weapon clattered to the ground.

With Fox trying to gather his bearings, Rafa took the opportunity to hit Fox in the muzzle with his weaker left hand. Fox yelped and took a step back. At the same moment, Krystal swung her flame staff at Rafa, aiming to strike him in the back of the head and bring him down mere seconds after the fight began.

Rafa turned away from Fox and spun on his heels. He spotted the blur of Krystal's staff and swung his left arm towards it with an open hand. He dodged to the right to avoid the direct blow of the weapon, then grabbed the black metal surface with his left hand. He clenched it with a grip so powerful that Krystal lost control of the staff and fell to the floor. While she tried to push herself back up, Rafa took the offensive, holding the staff with both hands. A second later, he swung it at Krystal's head.

The weapon hit its target with a horrifying 'thump.' Krystal moaned in pain and struggled to stand upright. She wobbled backwards and sobbed before finally collapsing behind a desk near Rafa's control board.

Rafa snickered. _"That was easy."_

His momentary gloating left him open to Fox, who raced up behind him and put him in a headlock. Snarling into Rafa's ear, he tightened his grip on the taller vulpine's windpipe, intending to choke him out until he asphyxiated.

Rafa dropped his staff and jerked his right elbow backwards. The attack caught Fox in the ribs and caused him to loosen his grip on Rafa's neck. Taking advantage of the moment, Rafa turned and pummeled Fox full in the face with the back of his left arm.

Fox stumbled backwards and wiped a trace of blood off his lips.

Both vulpines stared at the staff lying on the ground, equidistant from both of them. While holding their fists in front of them in preparation for pugilistic fury, both shuffled towards the staff. The weapon now only lay three feet from them.

Fox kicked the staff away and sent it rolling towards the wall in the front of the room. He had no intention of allowing Rafa to have the chance to use its flamethrower on him.

Smirking evilly, Rafa commented, "I like your thinking—just one on one combat. No weapons, no holds barred. Just my kind of fight."

Fox bared his teeth in a feral snarl and lunged forward. He jabbed several times with his left hand, then threw a powerful straight punch at his enemy. Rafa—far more in his element against Fox than in his earlier fight with the more agile, kick-happy Rena—darted back, blocking the lesser punches by holding his arms in front of his face.

When Fox threw his most powerful punch, Rafa retaliated with a right hook that caught Fox in the ribs. A pained gasp escaped the red vulpine's lips. His foe disoriented, Rafa pushed forward with fists blazing and scored three additional hits on Fox's throat and muzzle.

Fox tried to block the flurry of punches, but Rafa's determination and fury made such an eventuality next to impossible. While half-parrying the incoming blows, he swept his leg to the right and connected with the back of Rafa's knee.

The taller fox stumbled, allowing Fox to break out and make his next move. With a yell, he tackled Rafa to the ground and sat up on his chest before unleashing his anger on his face with his fists. His blows were amplified by the metal plating on the back of his gloves, designed to protect his knuckles and inflict maximum damage on anything he hit.

A particularly powerful punch sent one of Rafa's teeth flying.

Howling, Rafa frantically held his hands in front of his bleeding muzzle. Then, when Fox's attacks slowed, he spat a wad of bloodied saliva into Fox's eyes. The vulpine yelled in disgust and reached to wipe the revolting discharge away, which gave Rafa the opportunity he needed.

Rafa slammed Fox in the left cheekbone. Then, when he faltered, he grabbed Fox by the shoulders and hurled him to the floor next to him.

Knowing what his enemy would do next, Fox rolled farther away and stood up. Rafa mirrored his movements.

"It's hilarious how you think you can beat me. What you don't realize is that my pain threshold is infinitely higher than yours. Every one of your sissy little punches is like a slap on the wrist to me. So, just keep trying. I want this kill to be rewarding."

Fox seethed. "What kind of monster did you turn yourself into, Rafa?"

Rafa shrugged while holding out his fists. "Tell me—if you had the option to make yourself immune to bullets, more tolerant to pain than you could ever imagine, and able to live over two hundred years, wouldn't you do it, too?"

"No," Fox replied.

"You really are an idiot," Rafa muttered.

"No—I would turn it down because I see what it's done to you. You're a megalomaniac. The power went to your head. You're not even close to the same person I used to know. There's a reason people aren't supposed to live forever."

"Yeah," Rafa chuckled. "Entropy and the limits of natural selection—neither of which have any advantage whatsoever. Oh, don't you tell me you've got some kind of bullshit philosophical reason why you'd rather die at 70 than at 200."

"I just have a hunch," Fox replied. "Something isn't right about what you've done to yourself."

"Suit yourself, then. I'm sure you'll see the error of your ways after I send you straight to hell."

"If there's a hell—and I'm pretty sure there is—you're already in the ninth circle," Fox retorted.

Rafa paused before he realized the exact meaning of Fox's statement. Unable to deny the truth of his violent betrayal at Northpoint, he shook his head in anger and lunged towards Fox. He lashed out with three quick punches, but Fox deflected them and struck back with a blow that caught Rafa square in the breastbone.

The taller vulpine hopped backwards and appeared to shrug off the attack. "Ha. Is that all you've got?"

Fox bit his bleeding lip in anger and advanced on Rafa. He threw two small punches, which Rafa deflected with little effort before he uncorked a monster of a right hook that smashed into Fox's already-bruised ribcage.

Fox yelled and dodged to the left, but Rafa trailed his movements and threw a trio of punches at Fox's muzzle. All of them connected. In an attempt to deter from additional face-punches, Fox launched a rapid front kick. To his dismay, Rafa shifted to the side and used his enemy's missed attack as an opportunity to deliver a punishing kick of his own to Fox's left knee.

The knee folded back unnaturally. A river of fiery pain engulfed his entire leg. In any other circumstance, he would have crumpled to the ground and curled into a fetal position; but he had no such option. Trying to force back tears of pain, he shifted his weight to his one uninjured leg and faced down Rafa.

Instead of gloating, Rafa stepped forwards and threw three additional punches—two jabs and a straightforward haymaker. Unable to effectively move and dodge, Fox found himself powerless to avoid the monstrous hit that impacted his throat and all but knocked the wind out of him. He tried fighting back, but his damaged leg kept him prisoner to the moment as Rafa stepped up and pummeled his muzzle and upper body.

With every punch, Fox felt his will to fight abating. His right leg cried out in pain, but any remedy for it would have to wait until the end of the fight—a virtual impossibility, given that Rafa fully intended to kill both him and Krystal in retaliation for his failure to blackmail Corneria into letting him keep his grip on power in East Fortuna.

" _Someone, please help!"_ Fox begged internally. _"Krystal, come on! Get up! I'm going to die here!"_

The blue vixen lay motionless behind the desk near Rafa's control board and did not respond. Fox even wondered if Rafa had managed to kill her.

As Rafa pummeled his chest with yet another supercharged punch, a not-so-distant memory inundated Fox's mind.

* * *

 _-_ § _-_

* * *

Foxfire Enterprise's helicopter sat on the pavement outside his base, its blades kicking up the trace amounts of dust and gravel that coated the asphalt nearby. While the rest of his team waited inside the chopper, Fara stood thirty feet away from it. Standing next to her, Fox noticed the uneasy look in her eyes.

Placing a gentle hand on her shoulder, Fox asked her, _"What's the matter, Fara?"_

The fennec closed her eyes and stroked Fox's shoulder. _"I just don't have a good feeling about this mission. Something about this is all wrong. Why would East Fortuna suddenly attack Corneria? It doesn't make any sense."_

" _It's not our job to make sense of these things, Fara,"_ Fox replied. _"It's our job to take care of them. Come on—let's go. The Cornerian Army needs all the help they can get. The city's power is down and their communications aren't working."_

" _Okay, Fox,"_ Fara whispered.

The two jogged towards the helicopter's opened side door and climbed in. Fox claimed a seat next to Rena, who still refused to put on the team's official uniform and instead chose to wear a Godflesh Armageddon hoodie and short shorts into a bona fide war zone.

Shaking his head in disapproval at the yellow vixen's attire, Fox glanced at the crew bench across from him and nodded to his other three teammates as Fara claimed the spot on the crew bench next to him. Then, Fox glanced towards the cockpit and locked eyes with Rafa.

The dull-furred vulpine gave him a somber thumbs up and lifted the helicopter off the helipad.

As he did, Fox could have sworn he saw a tinge of regret in his eyes.

* * *

 _-_ § _-_

* * *

His mind returned to the present in time for Rafa to land another solid punch to his head. His entire body burned with pain. His mind tottered on the brink of blacking out. He felt faint, and his muscles quivered. But at that moment, he thought of his former teammates, Fara in particular. He wondered if he had brushed off her death too quickly; but whether or not that was true, she mattered deeply to him. Considering that Scarlet's relationship with him lasted less than a full month, he realized that he truly had something special with Fara.

And that special relationship ended with the help of the turncoat traitor currently punching his skull in. He could not let it end this way. His fallen comrades deserved their vengeance, not for their executor to have the last laugh.

When Rafa pulled back to throw a goliath punch aimed straight for the bridge of his nose, Fox snapped.

Every fiber of his being revolted against his action, but he forced himself to shift his weight equally onto both legs. To overcome the intolerable pain, he yelled at the top of his lungs. When Rafa's punch came, he violently shoved his arm to the side and retaliated with a right hook of his own. Five stainless steel knuckles smashed into Rafa's face, causing him to stumble back and spit out blood.

His attention laser-focused on his one and only goal, Fox pushed forwards and hurled a nonstop barrage of punches on Rafa. The taller vulpine held up his hands to block the attacks, but Fox refused to be deterred. No matter how few of his blows hit home, he continued lashing out at his enemy.

A second strike caught Rafa in the ribs and caused him to falter and move his arms away from his face. Fighting through the crippling pain in his leg, Fox stepped forward and headbutted Rafa. An unsettling 'crack' echoed through the room. For the first time since Fox could remember, Rafa screamed in pain. At the same time, Fox's vision turned to red.

With his enemy clutching his head, Fox unleashed his pent-up rage on the East Fortunan leader, pushing him towards the left wall with every punch. His body engulfed in pain, Rafa made no attempt at blocking any of Fox's attacks. His back moved closer and closer to the long desk positioned against the wall, underneath a chart detailing possible nuclear targets in Corneria.

For a brief moment, Fox stopped attacking Rafa. When he did, the wounded general offered nothing more than a feeble punch that felt more like a shove to Fox.

Closing his eyes and gathering his rage, Fox stepped to the side and grabbed Rafa by the shoulders, rotating him towards the nearby table. He belted out a feral yell, partially to distract from the searing pain of his shattered knee and partially to drive away all traces of emotion from his mind.

He took one of his hands off Rafa's shoulder and placed it on the back of his head. Then, he bared his teeth and slammed Rafa's head into the table below. Frantic shouts and screams poured from Rafa's bleeding lips. Consumed by his fury, Fox yanked his enemy back up, only to smash his head into the table's surface again. Then, a third time. Rafa whimpered in pain.

Even in his furious state, Fox felt traces of sadness work their way into his mind. He did his best to ignore them. Then, he slammed Rafa's head into the table a fourth and final time. The dull-furred vulpine's body went limp, and he flopped to the ground at the base of the table. Fox glanced at his battered foe and prepared to end the fight.

He looked across the room and spotted Rafa's grenade launcher sitting on top of a desk near his nuclear button. Hobbling with his weight on his unbroken leg, Fox approached the weapon and scooped it up. He glanced to his left at Krystal, who still laid face-down behind another desk. He hoped she would survive this. But even if she did not, justice would still be done. After all, Krystal was every bit as complicit in his former team's demise as Rafa was.

Crouching behind the desk, Fox took aim at Rafa with the grenade launcher just as the taller vulpine pushed himself up and stumbled into a standing position. Through the launcher's iron sights, Fox saw a look of doomed panic etched into Rafa's shattered muzzle.

"Goodbye, Rafa."

He pulled the trigger and immediately ducked behind the desk.

An earsplitting explosion roiled the command room. Concrete dust rained from the ceiling, and chunks of the wall and the desk that lined it went flying as the grenade exploded. For half a minute, Fox kept his head below the top of the desk protecting him from flying shrapnel. His heart rate slowed as the seconds passed. An unfortunate side effect of this was the amplification of the shooting pain in his left knee.

Grunting, he pushed himself up and looked at the carnage in front of him. The boards and charts on the opposite wall lay in pieces on the floor, and the desk mounted against the wall was nothing more than splinters. Splotches of blood coated the cracked concrete wall, and a pool of blood and bone fragments covered the floor in the spot where Rafa previously stood.

Thanks to having witnessed several similar scenarios in his life, Fox did not feel his stomach turning. He did, however, feel a sense of relief. Rafa was dead, never to return. His WMD's had been thwarted, and the lack of enemy reinforcements pouring into the command tower suggested that the remainder of his team had managed to gain some level of control over the conflict inside the base.

A weak smile appeared on his face. In spite of his bloody revenge, a sense of peace pervaded him. Well—as much peace as was possible with his broken left kneecap. His short-lived joviality came to an end when he looked at Krystal. The desk she had collapsed behind seemed to have taken the brunt of the shrapnel from his grenade, but the blue vixen still made no movements.

Holding his metaphorical breath, he limped across the floor towards Krystal, then lowered himself onto his good knee next to her. He placed a finger on her neck to check her pulse and breathed a sigh of relief when he felt faint signs of life.

Raising his head, he looked around the room to be sure no one else had entered. With his ears ringing from the exploding grenade, he struggled to hear all but the most immediate of sounds. When he ascertained that only he and Krystal remained, he stroked her face and muzzle in hopes that it would restore her consciousness. After all, with his damaged leg, he had no way of helping her out of the base unless she came to.

When his fingers tickled her whiskers, her eyes peeked open. She whimpered in pain, then murmured, "Fernando, is that you?"

Fox raised an eyebrow. "Um, Krystal, it's me—Fox."

"Oh…" Krystal sighed. Opening her eyes wider, she sat up and held her throbbing head. "Blazes, my brain feels like it's going to explode."

"Can you get up?" asked Fox.

Krystal gave no verbal response, but she pushed herself off the ground with one hand and slowly rose into a standing position. To her surprise, Fox remained on his knees. A look of mild embarrassment on his face, Fox extended his hand. Krystal took the hint and pulled him to his feet.

The two stood face to face and stared into each other's eyes. Krystal was the first to speak. "Is Rafa dead?"

Fox nodded. "It's finally over." He scratched the back of his head and commented, "You know, I'm kind of glad you didn't have to see how it ended. I know Rafa was part of your family."

"Yes, I'm grateful for that." She looked down for a moment before she softened her voice and told Fox, "There's something else I'm grateful for."

"What?"

"You helped me become me again."

Fox looked confused. "How did I do that?"

A faint smile graced Krystal's lips. "Now that Rafa is dead and East Fortuna has lost, this long, dark chapter of my life is finally over. Christina Ortega is dead. It wouldn't have happened without you, Fox." She lowered her ears in shame and admitted, "I feel like I should let you know something: I was the sniper who tried to kill you in Aquas."

"Really?" Fox's eyes widened.

"Yes," Krystal sighed. "I was tracking you from the instant you and Her Redness checked into the hotel. It was my job to kill you, but you ended up saving my life instead when Hartmann and his friends captured me in Katina. After that, I couldn't look at you the same way anymore. Anybody else would have tortured me for information and then killed me."

Fox crossed his arms and smirked. "Scarlet told me Miss Ortega was that half-crazed nun with a lead foot in Titania. So, that was you driving, huh?"

Krystal blushed. "I've never been more terrified in my life."

"I guess you survived driving off the Abrugarvo Bay bridge because you used to jump off cliffs on the islands, huh?"

"You really have me figured out, don't you?"

"It was just something your sister mentioned to me," Fox replied. "I can't read minds, like you."

Krystal's eyes became misty. "That brings me to another, point, Fox. You're a special man. You saved my life, you gave me a second chance to make things right, and you didn't turn me in to the authorities when you had every reason to do it. I can't even begin to tell you how much I think of you." She looked longingly at him, then added, "But I can do this."

She put her arms around him and embraced him, nuzzling into his neck fur and sharing the warm feeling of gratitude that abounded in her soul. Taken aback, Fox returned the gesture and stroked the vixen's back. After a minute, the two pulled away and smiled at each other.

The sound of approaching footsteps reached both of their ears. With a startled grunt, Fox looked to his right before he realized that his gun was over twenty feet away from him on the floor. He lacked the time to retrieve it before the unwanted intruder could make his way into the room and gun down both him and Krystal.

" _Dammit. I let my guard down."_

His eyes went wide when none other than Scarlet barreled into the room, panting from exertion. Her ears stood on end, and her tail looked like a giant poof. "Fox! You're alive! I tried to call you, but you didn't pick up!"

Fox reached into his pocket to check for missed calls, figuring that they must have occurred during his fight with Rafa. However, before he could reach it, Scarlet stopped him and shouted, "We've got to get out of here! There's a Cornerian bomber wing on its way to level the base! They'll be here any minute now! Peppy's landed the cargo plane on the runway. We've got to get to it!"


	53. Fallout

**Arc X: A Nuclear Error**

 _Part 4: Fallout_

Terror gripped Fox. He looked first at Scarlet, then at his damaged left leg.

"Scarlet, I can't walk."

Scarlet poked her head down and forwards in aggression. "What?"

"Rafa broke my knee. I can only hobble. I'll never make it out in time."

Scarlet bit her lip and looked out the observation window at the back of the room. In the distance, she spotted the team's cargo plane parked on the base's runway, awaiting her and Fox. A single idea occurred to her.

" _The_ one time _being a big girl has an advantage…"_

Determination in her eyes, she stomped towards Fox and ordered him, "Get on my back. I'm going to carry you." She crouched and grabbed Fox, hefting him over her shoulders. She pulled her arms over his legs and torso to prevent him from falling off, then attempted to stand up. Despite being a strong vixen, Fox's muscular physique and his heavy combat gear weighed her down and made her feel like Atlas holding up the world.

Grimacing, she gasped out, "All right, here we go. Krystal, gun down anyone who tries to stop us. If you know where to find a car, get it to us ASAP!"

The blue vixen nodded and ran out of the room ahead of Scarlet as she lumbered towards the staircase with Fox on her back. Every step on the three-story stairwell inside the command tower set her leg muscles on fire, but she could not bear to think about Fox dying at the hands of his own contactors.

" _Those sons of bitches are going to pay for this!"_ she raged internally. _"They could have at least waited until we were out of here!"_

She reached the second floor. By this point, Krystal was nowhere to be seen. Deep down, Scarlet feared that she had taken to opportunity to run off on her own. Then again, she figured that Hartmann would never allow her to board the team's plane without Fox nearby. That thought gave her comfort, but the fear of not making it out of the building quickly enough made her nervous. Scarlet yelped to goad her body into carrying Fox down the final set of stairs.

After a minute of descending, Scarlet reached the bottom floor. Her legs shook from Fox's weight, and she knew she would be sore for days if she escaped the base with her life. Crouching to reach for the latch mounted on the front door, she pushed the door open and stepped outside. The distant sun appeared over the horizon, bathing the cold late autumn landscape with a warm red glow.

Seconds later, Scarlet heard the sound of a sputtering engine. She looked to her left as Krystal motored an open-top two seat jeep towards the front of the tower. The blue vixen stopped the car and jumped out, then helped Scarlet load Fox into the cargo bed behind the front seats. When she and Scarlet determined that Fox would not fall out, Krystal leaped into the driver's seat and sped towards the distant cargo plane, spinning the rear tires and turning the vehicle around. The wind whipped through her hair as she topped seventy miles per hour. The tires bounded over the uneven concrete surface of the base, forcing her to clutch the steering wheel to maintain control. All the while, the engine struggled to keep a constant rhythm. It misfired every few seconds and created a series of nerve-wracking stutters.

Krystal glanced to her left in time to see three distant—but rapidly approaching—specks in the sky.

Her blood ran cold as she sped past the burning wreckage of the two tanks Hartmann and Slippy had destroyed earlier. She then turned to the right and spotted the approaching runway. To her left, she noticed what remained of Slippy's helicopter. She wondered if he had survived.

Still, nothing except her own survival and Fox's mattered to her at the moment. With the bombers bearing down on the base, she drove onto the runway and laid eyes on Fox's cargo plane. The back loading ramp was down, creating an easy way into the back of the plane where the Landmaster had already been loaded. Hartmann and James stood inside the back of the plane, with the latter spraying the back end of the Landmaster with an industrial-grade fire extinguisher. Overhead, she heard the sound of Falco, Bill, and Katt's fighter jets as they circled the base.

Barely slowing down, Krystal drove up the plane's loading ramp and stopped inside the cargo hold. The instant the vehicle came to a halt, James and Hartmann raced to help Fox out of the cargo bed. The two carried him to the side of the plane, where they placed him on a crew bench with a nearby seatbelt. The second after Fox's rear touched the bench's vinyl leather surface, Hartmann ripped a walky-talky off his belt and yelled into it, "Fox is in! Get us the hell out of here, Peppy!"

" _You got it, sonny!"_ the aged hare replied, his voice filled with static.

The plane's engines spooled up, pushing the airplane down the runway. The loading ramp dragged against the ground, but it offered little resistance to the mighty power of the plane's four turbofan engines. As the plane picked up speed, the East Fortunan jeep that Krystal had driven into the plane rolled backwards and slipped off the ramp. It came to rest on the runway behind the plane, only to be flipped by the jetwash coming from the engines.

Fox held on for dear life to the seatbelt next to him while Hartmann clutched an overhead hand grip. Scarlet and Krystal mirrored his movements on the opposite side of the plane.

At long last, Peppy built up enough speed to lift the plane off the runway. He pulled up sharply, forcing Fox, Krystal, Hartmann, and Scarlet to hold onto their restraints to avoid flying out of the back of the plane. Because Hartmann had already secured the Landmaster to the inside of the cargo hold, it held fast and did not move.

With the back open, Fox looked out at the wide open sky as Peppy leveled out over the giant volcanic caldera that contained the base. As the seconds ticked by, he realized how rapid his heartbeat had become. The hypnotic sound of the plane's engines soothed his ears in a way. Despite them being obnoxiously loud, Fox would take turbines over gunshots any day.

He glanced to his right at Hartmann, who locked eyes with him. "We did it, Fox," said the husky, allowing himself a grim smile.

Fox looked around the interior of the plane for the rest of his team, but only Scarlet, Krystal, James, and Hartmann himself stood out to him. "Is this everyone? Is Slippy okay?"

Hartmann lowered his head. "He'll live. He's resting near the front of the plane right now. He inhaled too much carbon monoxide when the helicopter crashed and caught fire, but I think he's going to turn out okay. Your dad pulled him out of the helicopter, and he's checking on him as we speak."

A nod sufficed as Fox's response. "What about Rena?"

"I haven't seen her," Hartmann replied. "You'll have to ask Scarlet."

The red vixen noticed Fox looking in her direction and cautiously crossed the plane's cargo floor. With the back end stuck open for the time being, she wanted to avoid being thrown out into the open air. Upon reaching Fox, she took a seat next to him and asked, "What is it, Fox?"

"Did something happen to Rena?"

The red vixen looked away. A distant expression appeared on her face. "She didn't make it."

"What happened to her?" Fox demanded.

A large sigh left Scarlet's lips. "As much as I don't like saying it, we all owe her our lives. She sacrificed herself to stop the missile from launching." She trailed off, then finished, "She didn't get out of the exhaust tunnel in time."

Fox stared at the ground, his temporary solace shattered. "I see."

"Hey, look!" Hartmann shouted, pointing out of the back of the plane.

In the distance, the first of the three Cornerian bombers reached the base and unleashed a hail of bunker-busting munitions upon it. Tens of explosions filled the base as the large warplane banked to the right and headed back towards Corneria. The second bomber—an antiquated quad-engine model like the first—soared over the same airspace and dropped a barrage of thermobaric munitions upon it. This time, giant plumes of fires erupted across the base, creating a conflagration all but guaranteed to wipe out any troops remaining inside the base.

As Fox watched the chaos unfold from a safe distance, he noticed a third plane. Unlike the first two, this one possessed a stealthy flying wing shape. The advanced design left the bomber unable to carry large numbers of munitions, but quantity had never been the purpose of the stealth bomber.

While Fox's eyes traced the flying wing as it neared the base, Scarlet nudged him. "Fox, I've got a weird feeling about this. You might want to look away."

"What do you mean by…"

Suddenly, a blinding flash of light turned the world to white. A terrifying noise that sounded like the air itself being shredded filled the skies. Fox covered his eyes with his arm, then withdrew it seconds later, only to see a _full-sized_ mushroom cloud burgeoning over the base.

Unable to form words, he found his mouth hanging open. When sanity finally returned to him, he looked at Scarlet and then at Hartmann. "Did that really just happen?"

Hartmann looked every bit as shaken up as Fox did. "That really did just happen."

"But…why?"

"I can think of a few reasons," Hartmann growled. "Number one would be to prove a point: you don't fuck with the Cornerian Army. There are no civilians anywhere near the base… Excuse me—what _used_ to be the base. So, no one other than Rafa and his goons were going to get hurt. That was a small yield nuke, meaning that the fallout isn't going to travel far enough to affect people living in Northpoint."

"I've got a suggestion," said Scarlet, hatred etched into her features. "I think General Warbird wanted us dead. How much money did General Pepper say he was going to pay us if we came back alive, again?"

Fox's eyes narrowed. "You think they tried to kill us so they could take credit for ending the war, all while not having to pay us for doing it?"

"General Pepper would never do that," Scarlet replied. "But there's definitely someone else out there who would. And, as you know, the Prime Minister is quite the deficit hawk. That's all I'm saying."

An agitated grunt left Fox's mouth. "Only two people in Corneria have the clearance to order a nuclear strike. One is General Pepper, and the other is the Prime Minister." He stamped his right foot. "You know, I _thought_ I saw him and General O'Donoghue talking quietly off to the side while I was leaving the meeting before the mission started."

"I've just got one thing to say, Foxie," Scarlet deadpanned. "You're damn lucky your cousin didn't skip Leg Day."

" _Third_ cousin," Fox muttered.

A moment later, Peppy found the button to raise the rear cargo door and pressed it. With the back end closed up, the noise dropped to a comfortable level. Fox exhaled, then looked at Hartmann. "Well, now what?"

The husky grinned, but the after image of seeing the nuclear blast still rocked him to the core. "That's up for you to decide. After we land, I guess you'll need to collect your pay from General Pepper. You'd better split it up evenly."

"Don't be looking at me like that, Bruno," Fox grumbled. "Have I ever given you a reason to think I'd stiff you?"

"He stiffed me one time," Scarlet chuckled, salaciously licking her lips.

Fox blinked to make sure his ears had actually heard that. He then shook his head and said, "Okay, so _after_ I get the paycheck and _split it up evenly_ after factoring in expenses, what are we going to do?"

"Well, I know what I'm going to do," Hartmann announced. "I'm going to get polished up for my date with the pretty little husky I met on the internet."

Scarlet stared at him with mixed shock and horror. "Bruno, I thought we were…"

"Heh. Sorry, Scars—I can't let myself get distracted with a short term fling. If you want me, you've got to show me you're in it for the long haul."

Scarlet paused for thought, then slapped her leg. "Dammit!"

Hartmann shrugged. "That's just how it is. Sorry. Love you, but I need stability in my relationships."

The red vixen solemnly nodded, showing signs of subliminal agreement with him. After a moment of silence, she stood up and walked towards the front of the plane.

When Scarlet walked around the Landmaster that blocked his view of the area behind the cockpit where James attended to Slippy, Fox glanced across the inside of the plane and locked eyes with Krystal. To keep her conversation out of Hartmann's ears, the blue vixen spoke with her mind.

" _I don't know what I'm going to do, Fox. I can't go back to spying for Macbeth—there's no point in it, anyway. I don't want to go back to my place in Eladard, either. I'm glad this is all over, but I don't have a purpose anymore. Everything feels so meaningless now."_

Fox sighed, realizing that after having spent the past seventy years plotting the scheme that had just gone up in a nuclear blast, she had every reason to feel purposeless. _"I have room in my base if you'd like to stay there while you figure out what to do with your life. It's not a luxury suite, but it's a decent place to live."_

Krystal smiled. _"I think I would like that. Would you be open to spending time with me if I stay there for a little while?"_

Fox glanced towards the front of the plane. He did not see Scarlet, but he thought about her. As enjoyable as his short romance with her had been, he realized that at this point, she saw him more as a fallback plan than as a genuine lover—and he could not accept being anyone's fallback plan.

" _I'll think about it,"_ Fox communicated to Krystal. He leaned back against the side of the plane before he asked Hartmann, "Hey—why was there no one shooting at us when Krystal was driving me and Scarlet across the base? That didn't feel right."

"Easy answer," Hartmann replied. "The base staff saw those bombers coming and decided to run. I'm honestly not sure how you even found that car. They took anything with wheels and booked it out of there."

"There was something wrong with the engine," said Krystal from the other side of the plane.

Hartmann nodded. "I guess that explains that."

Fox let out a relieved sigh. "Well, looks like we're going to be landing in an hour or two. I kind of wonder what our welcoming party is going to look like."

"It might not look like much if General O'Donoghue and the Prime Minister really did try to kill us with those bombers. They might just cut you a check in private and leave it at that."

"I think I'd be okay with that," Fox replied. He narrowed his eyes. "But I'm going to have a word with one of the generals. I'm sure they'll deny it, but they need to know that I know what they know."

Hartmann smiled. "That's ballsy, Fox. I approve."

After a momentary lull in the conversation, Fox looked at the Landmaster nearby. Bullet holes riddled the armor, and a large black patch covered the back end. The smell of burning emanated from the vehicle and filled the entire cargo area with its malodorous scent.

"You barely made it out alive, huh?"

"You're not kidding," Hartmann replied, shaking his head. "The back end caught fire as we were loading it into the plane. Just a few more hits and we would have been toast. I'll tell you, though, that thing can take a beating and still keep running. It was definitely worth the effort to steal it."

Fox played back the memory of his less-than-ideal trip to Eladard, from his bathroom hijinks to the slowest car chase on record, to the annoying presence of James Pond, and of course, to finding out that Scarlet had killed three members of Rena's old gang, delivered the truck carrying the Landmaster to a safe spot, and encountered Christina Ortega, all while wearing metallic stripper lingerie. A faint smile crept onto his lips.

"We've seen some pretty crazy things, haven't we?"

Hartmann turned his head towards him. "Crazy doesn't even begin to describe it. I knew it was all going downhill after Slippy—I mean, Skidd Marx—cleared out Wolf's control room with…what did he call it again?"

Fox chortled. "The Brassy Bassoon from the Buttocks."

Hartmann shared a laugh. "You know, as great as it's been, I'm glad I'm finally going into retirement. I don't think I'm interested in a sequel."

Fox shrugged. "Well, if there's a sequel, we might not even be in it."

"But I bet Scarlet will."

"Scarlet has to show up. It's in her contract," Fox replied.

"Personally, I would love to see a story about her," said Hartmann. "Just think about the fanservice."

Fox rolled his eyes and tried to stand up by placing his weight on his good leg. "Yeah, whatever. Dream on. I'm going to check on Slippy. Can you give me a hand?"

"Just give me a second. Your dad has a crutch around here somewhere. I'll get it for you."

* * *

 _-_ § _-_

* * *

With the crutch leaning against the co-pilot's chair where he sat, Fox looked at Peppy out of the corner of his eye as he lined up the cargo plane with the Corneria City military base's main runway. The vast metropolis stretched as far as the eye could see through the plane's front windows. For the first time in over a month, Fox truly felt like he had come home. Any future dust-ups with East Fortuna now rested solely with the Cornerian Army; and even if he wanted to take any new jobs, his broken knee would prevent him from doing so for the time being.

He sighed and pondered his unit's future. After all, with East Fortuna and Rafa dealt with, Scarlet had no reason to stay with the team. Fox knew she planned to leave, and the same was true for Hartmann. Rena was no more, which meant that he would need to find a new computer specialist for his team. In addition, Miyu's death in Papetoon decreased his group's numbers to the point where only he, Slippy, and Falco functioned as his official permanent members. Well, Taiga still worked as his AR (Animal Resources) representative and receptionist, but she had not seen combat in many months. Krystal had proven herself a capable soldier, but a great sense of unease pervaded Fox's mind at the thought of permanently enlisting the help of a 150-year-old former enemy. And of course, thanks to Edgar killing himself in a fit of romantic despondency, the position of Fox's finance officer remained unfilled.

" _It's back to square one all over again,"_ he mused. This time, however, he did not feel like putting in the effort to rebuild. For all he cared, he could pocket the rewards from his mission, pay his teammates, and then promptly sell off his enterprise and retire comfortably at 28. Many people could have only dreamed of such an option, but for some reason, Fox found the idea unfulfilling. Like Scarlet, he relished the thrill of the fight and the adrenaline rush that came with putting his life on the line.

His thoughts moved to the back of his mind as Peppy eyed the runway and descended towards the tarmac. He slowed the plane with the wing flaps and lowered the landing gear. The massive—but still much less massive than his old six-engine Antira monstrosity—cargo plane lazily dropped towards the ground. As the white lines on the runway came into clear view, Fox looked farther down the asphalt expanse. Near a hangar for fighter jets, he laid eyes on a giant throng of people. Most wore military uniforms, but some of them adorned themselves with civilian attire.

Peppy grinned and looked at Fox.

"Looks like we're gonna get a welcome back party after all."

The hare eased the plane towards the tarmac, continually slowing the aircraft's speed. The tires touched down on the runway with a quick bump. Then, a split second later, the entire plane exploded into a giant fireball. Pieces of metal flew in all directions as the aircraft disintegrated in the blink of an eye. An evil smirk on his cruel beak, General O'Donoghue stood in front of the window of the base's control tower, holding a remote trigger responsible for detonating the plastic explosives he had planted on the plane before it left for East Fortuna.

Just kidding.

The plane landed on the runway with no fatalities. Peppy engaged the brakes and slowed it to a halt near the end of the landing strip. As the engines spooled down, he held out his hand for Fox to shake. "Sonny, ya done good. I'm proud of you. I woulda been real sad if one of them nucular bombs got ya."

Fox laughed internally at 'nucular.' "Thanks, Uncle Peppy. Let's get out of here."

Two minutes later, Fox, James, Peppy, Slippy, Hartmann, and Scarlet walked down the cargo plane's opened loading ramp to thunderous applause from the nearby gallery. Fox leaned on his father's shoulder and stumbled down the ramp with the help of his crutch. Meanwhile, Krystal remained in the back of the plane. She heard the shouts and the applause of the people outside, but she wanted nothing to do with it. All she had done was to help bring down the very menace she had created; and more to the point, her introverted persona disliked being put on the spot. While Fox and the others soaked up the thanks and praise of the people, she sat with her head in her hands, waiting for the crowd to disperse before she could leave and start a new life.

While Fox, Scarlet, Peppy, Slippy, and Hartmann approached the crowd that had gathered to greet them, Falco landed the Arwing on a runway adjacent to the main landing strip and climbed out of the fighter. He sprinted over to his teammates and joined them as they walked in front of the crowd, shaking hands and giving celebratory high fives.

Near the front of the crowd, Fox noticed an overly tall lupine wearing a white lab coat. His black and magenta-furred daughter stood beside him. As opposed to the suggestive Cerinian attire she had previously worn, she now dressed herself with a subtle black track jacket and matching athletic pants. A noticeable glow radiated from her face.

Fox came to a stop and addressed the wolf and his half-breed daughter. "Dr. Reige—good to see you again."

"Oh indeed!" the scientist remarked. "I felt it was only right to congratulate you on your selfless endeavor after all you've done for me and my daughter."

"How have things been for you?"

"Splendid," Reige replied. "After you returned me to Corneria, I managed to reclaim my old position with the bioengineering division at Central Cornerian University. This has helped me locate a place of residence for me and my daughter, and it has also allowed her to blossom into the beautiful flower that she was always destined to be."

Violet blushed at being called "beautiful flower," but she stroked her father's arm nevertheless and looked at Fox with gratitude.

"Unfortunately, you seem to be injured," Reige observed. "What seems to be the matter?"

"My knee got bent backwards. I think it's broken."

Instead of responding with sympathy, the lupine exulted, "Aha! In that case, you would be the perfect specimen for my research team's latest medical experiment. I and my new associates have been working to perfect a bone substitute that can withstand five times the tensile load of a natural skeletal structure, all while retaining a light weight and the ability to be integrated into the body's reconstructive processes. If you are willing, I and my team would be thrilled to use your shattered knee as a testbed for the fruits of our labor."

James turned and whispered into Fox's ear. "Who's this windbag?"

"We met him on Cerinia," Fox replied before he turned his attention back to the doctor. "Count me in. The sooner I can walk again, the better."

"Oh, magnificent," the wolf replied. "I will call you later to schedule the procedure. Fear not, Fox—you shall be on your feet again in no time!"

Shaking his head in amusement, Fox pressed on, aided by his father. With the rest of his team close behind, he walked along the edge of the onlookers until he reached the edge of the group. Fifty feet farther ahead, General Pepper stood alone with his arms crossed. When he spotted Fox, he walked towards him.

As the general approached, Fox motioned for his father to move away so that he could speak privately with Corneria's highest ranking military officer. Limping on one foot, he walked towards Pepper, frustration in his eyes.

When the two came face to face, Pepper extended his hand for Fox to shake. Fox reluctantly accepted and gripped the general's hand with more force than usual.

The hound dog spoke. "Fox, thank you for your service. I admit all did not go according to plan, but the East Fortunan nuclear and orbital threat has been eliminated. None of it would have been possible without you."

Fox hardened his expression and stared into Pepper's eyes. "Thanks—but there's something we need to talk about right this very minute."

Visibly shaken by Fox's forwardness, Pepper stuttered. "W…What would that be, Fox?"

"Why the _hell_ did you send that bomber wing to the base? You knew where we were. You could have waited just a few more minutes. Rafa's weapons weren't even a concern anymore when they showed up."

Defensive anger flared up in Pepper's eyes. "Do not be so quick to judge those whose responsibility it is to protect the 400 million people of Corneria from all threats, both domestic and foreign. As defenders of the public, it is our prerogative to have a backup plan in case the initial plan fails. I admit that it was not I who ordered a nuclear strike on the base, but it was in my power to stop it. Trust me, Fox—I gave you a chance. I tried to contact you repeatedly, but you did not respond. We thought you had been killed. Based on what we knew, we decided that a retaliatory strike on the East Fortunan command base was our best option. We confirmed the launch of Rafa's missile and decided that we had no choice but to retaliate in kind."

"Scarlet told me she tried to call me, too," Fox muttered under his breath. "That command tower must have had some kind of communications shield."

"Whatever the case," said Pepper, "I did not—and would never—do anything to deliberately betray you outside of the most urgent national security crisis. You're fortunate to be alive, but you're here now. As promised, I will authorize the national treasury to issue 200,000,000 credits worth of government bonds to you, in addition to 50,000,000 credits for your immediate use. As unfortunate as the outcome could have been, it worked out for you in the end. Take care of yourself, Fox."

With that, he shook Fox's hand again. Then, he turned and slowly walked away until he reached the front doors of the ornate command building. He stepped inside and vanished from Fox's sight.

Sighing, Fox turned around and watched the crowd of people breaking up. The military staff broke off and returned to their posts, while the civilians made their ways towards the front of the base, where their exit awaited them. Standing alone in the middle of a concrete expanse, Fox jumped when a gentle touch alighted on his shoulder. He spun to his left and came face to face with Scarlet.

The red vixen looked every bit as gorgeous as she had the day when James and Pepper assigned her to his job in Aquas. Her shiny gray catsuit accentuated every curve and contour of her enviable body, and the subtle, flowery scent of her perfume tickled his nose.

Scarlet smiled, but sadness lurked in her eyes. Fox knew what this meant.

"I guess this is goodbye."

A small tear appeared in her eye. She sniffled. "I never thought it would be so hard to say it."

"I'm going to miss you." Fox murmured.

The tear rolled down Scarlet's face. "I know. Me too."

The two foxes looked into each other's sad eyes until Scarlet gently placed her arms around Fox's neck and kissed him on the lips. To Fox, this kiss felt different. Instead of being borne out of lust, desire, or passion, it came from a place of longing, of need, of regret. He took her hint and kissed her back, sliding his tongue into her mouth while fondling the soft, raven hair on the back of her head. He patted her ear, which caused it to twitch in a way that he found adorable. Then, he pulled away and looked at her for one last time.

Before Scarlet turned to leave, he told her, "If you ever decide to stop running, give me a call. I'll be waiting." He trailed off, then added, "…But don't take too long. I can't wait forever."

Scarlet shed another tear and planted a kiss on his cheek.

Then, she walked towards the base's entrance. When she reached the security booth separating the military base from the outside world, she showed her ID to the guard on duty. With her identity cleared, she took a step forward. Before she walked out and disappeared, she turned around and looked back at Fox. Then, she hung her head and walked out of both the base and his life.

Fox stared at Cornerian skyline as an autumn breeze whistled through the air. Despite the rush of emotions competing for his attention, one thought hung in his mind.

" _We'll meet again. I just know it."_

* * *

 _AUTHOR'S NOTE(S):  
_

 _And that's pretty much the story right there. I want to extend my most sincere thanks for you reading this far. I hope you've enjoyed_ Sierra Foxtrot _at least almost as much as I have. The next chapter is the Epilogue._


	54. Epilogue

**Sierra Foxtrot**

 _Epilogue_

Ten days after Rafa's death, Fox found himself in the darkest, most remote corner of his base, which he used for storing unused items that he figured could be useful at a later time. With Rena and Miyu dead and Scarlet and Hartmann gone, the base felt even more empty than usual. He missed every one of his former teammates, especially the two who would never return. Miyu, while admittedly not contributing a tremendous amount to his unit, provided him with a rare voice of reason amidst the chaos surrounding his unit; while Hartmann and Scarlet shared invaluable friendships both during times of calm and moments under fire. Rena, on the other hand…

No missions showed up on Fox's master calendar, and he did not feel like accepting any at the moment. For the time being, he had a more important task at hand. His wristwatch read 6:50 AM. He figured Falco would not be awake for at least another hour. He had already encountered Slippy tinkering in what had formerly been Rena's workshop, but the amphibian appeared so entranced in his work that Fox figured he would not be solicited by him. All for the better, he figured. He needed to be alone for this.

In front of him lay boxes upon boxes, filled with Rena's belongings. Some of them had been in her possession since her first year as part of his unit. Back then, she was barely an adult, and she acted as if her fifteenth birthday had yet to occur. However, despite her mannerisms being annoying on occasion, Fox had come to enjoy them to a degree.

Most of the boxes were made of clear plastic, allowing Fox to look inside and view their contents: martial arts weapons, anime publications, random computer parts, yellow fur dye, clothes too small for most other women—and even her, on occasion—her sprawling collection of plush toys, and her musical equipment, some of which was too large to fit into boxes.

For over half an hour, he stacked the boxes into an 8x10 storage unit in the back of his indoor base, complete with a roll-up door and a padlock. Every time he moved, he internally thanked Dr. Reige for repairing his knee. With any other procedure, he would have had to hobble around with the help of a crutch for several weeks at the least; but his experimental knee replacement restored full functionality to his broken joint in mere days.

While loading the storage unit, Fox realized that he would likely never open it or use its contents after he locked it up. The reality was that he simply could not bring himself to throw away or donate any of Rena's belongings. They reminded him of a more carefree time when he had a stable, professional unit. Well, apart from her, at least.

After arranging the boxes, he placed Rena's pink and yellow 8-string guitar on a stand and put it in the corner of the storage unit next to the audio equipment she plugged it into. He held his hand above his head, gripping the metal handle to close the roll-up door. Yet, he lacked the impetus to do it. He saw mementos of his adventures in some of the boxes, and he did not feel ready to let them go.

He saw a prototype of Rena's lifeform indicator device that operated by identifying heat signatures. She had used a version of the device during the team's fateful day in Northpoint, before Rafa betrayed them and fled to East Fortuna.

In a box to the left and above the one that contained the heat sensor, Fox noticed a sheet of paper that had fallen flat against the inside of the box. It showed a copy of Andross' power armor design and featured Rena's handwritten notes on the device, along with a rough sketch of the armor that she eventually created for her own use. Fox shook his head. He remembered telling her not to take any of Andross' designs from the mysterious fortress in Fichina, but in hindsight, he was glad she had not listened to him.

In the box next to it, Fox spotted the autographed box containing an action figure of Titanian ex-President Iris Vinca. Of course, it remained unopened. Once again, Fox shook his head as he recalled the moment he learned that Rena had sliced through numerous civilians while chasing down a nun who turned out to be none other than Krystal.

In the same box, the remains of Zippy sat upon a textbook for C++ coding. Fox smiled at the drone's shredded pieces, but only because he had managed to survive its innate stupidity and inability to take instructions without its user speaking in an exaggerated anime voice.

Of course, numerous pizza wheels occupied several of the boxes in the storage unit. Fox considered putting them in his base's kitchen, but too many of their blades had suspicious traces of blood and rust on them. In a box near the bottom left corner of the stack, he saw the "ceremonial" bra and thong combination given to her to wear during the Cerinian celebration of her ascent to godhood, or at least something close to it. He sighed, realizing that even her drinking the Cerinian people's mystical elixir of life had not been enough to save her in the end.

One last trinket stood out to Fox. In a box dead in the center of the storage unit on the top shelf, a flash of silver caught his eye. Fittingly, it belonged to the necklace formerly owned by Lucas. Due to the urgency of the final mission in East Fortuna, Fox had not noticed its absence around Rena's neck.

Fox sighed. He realized that in all likelihood, Rena's willingness to sacrifice herself to prevent Rafa's MOAN from launching had been inspired by Lucas's own sacrifice in Papetoon. From the perspective of her character, Rena's romance with the black and blue jackal could have been the best thing to ever happen to her. Ironically, it also contributed to her own demise. Fox looked at the floor and mouthed a silent prayer for her in hopes that she would be allowed to enjoy a blissful afterlife where no one would reject her or lust after her.

Having ruminated on the past for long enough, Fox reached for the overhead door handle, shut off the light inside the storage until, and slammed the door shut against the floor. He closed the latch on the side of the corrugated metal door, then secured it with a padlock.

" _Rest in peace, Rena. You deserved better."_

He turned around, only to hear a set of quiet footsteps approaching him. Judging from their near-complete silence, he knew they could only belong to one person. Taking a deep breath, he leaned against the wall and waited for the visitor to come to him.

Seconds later, Krystal rounded the corner. Judging from her appearance, the vixen looked like she had just climbed out of bed. Her hair looked just disheveled enough not to be presentable in public, and her only clothing amounted to a black tank top and a pair of plaid pajama bottoms.

"Oh, hey Krystal," said Fox, wondering why she had bothered to intrude on him. "What is it?"

Krystal's previously demure expression evaporated, replaced by an uneasy, nervous stare. "I've been thinking about something ever since I moved in here. I have a job opportunity for you."

Krystal's past as Christina Ortega came racing back to Fox's mind. Along the same lines, he did not feel like accepting any new jobs shortly after undertaking the most dangerous and risky mission of his entire career. Discomfort in his voice, he asked her, "What did you have in mind?"

The vixen looked at her feet. "Now that it's all over and East Fortuna is starting to surrender, it seems like a good time to take care of something that I've been putting off for a while."

"And what would that be?" Fox put a hand on his hip.

"I want to go home."

"Home? To Cerinia?"

"Yes," Krystal answered. "I think it's time to face my past and make things right with my family. There's just one thing."

A nervous knot formed in Fox's throat. "What?"

"I want you to come with me."

Fox's eyes widened, but he said nothing.

Krystal explained, "I'll pay for everything. If you need to rent a plane to get there, I'll take care of it."

Putting a finger on his muzzle, Fox asked, "Why do you want me to come with you?"

A bashful look appeared on Krystal's face. "Truth is, on the islands, the people don't take very well to a woman of age who doesn't have a mate. So…"

"…You want me to pretend to be your husband, basically," Fox finished for her.

"Yeah…" the blue vixen trailed off. "Look—you don't have to do it if you don't want to. We don't have to do anything romantic. My people are fairly private when it comes to physical love, anyway. I just figured that you'd be a good person to bring along. I like being around you, and the islands are simply spectacular. You can think of it as a paid vacation if you'd like."

By looking at Fox, she could see the wheels of thought turning in his mind. Finally, after seconds of mulling over his options, he spoke. "How long do you want to stay there?"

"Two weeks," Krystal replied. "Is that too long?"

Fox turned to the side and pondered his response. After half a minute, he glanced at Krystal and said, "I could use a vacation. The last time I visited the islands, I really enjoyed it. Without a squad of bloodthirsty pirates to deal with this time, I'm sure it'll be even better."

Krystal's face lit up. "Thank you so much, Fox. I promise you won't regret this."

* * *

 _-_ § _-_

* * *

The sound of the single front-mounted propeller droned in Fox's ears as he piloted his rented aqua-plane over the tranquil waters of the Eastern Ocean. He looked out of the corner of his eye to his right and smiled at Krystal, seated next to him. He glanced over his shoulder into the back of the plane, where both his and Krystal's oversized suitcases sat. With them planning to spend two entire weeks in the Luddite haven, they needed to be sure to bring plenty of supplies.

Hours of monotonous flying came to an end when Fox laid eyes on the tiny island archipelago in the distance. As he descended towards the ocean, Krystal looked on expectantly, her countenance a mixture of both anticipation and fear. She wondered how her family would respond to her. Fox repeatedly assured her that they would embrace her with open arms, but she feared that she would be rejected for her desertion over a century ago.

The vixen had little time to think as Fox closed in on the largest island in the archipelago and skimmed over the waves. He spotted the beach where his team and the native Cerinians fought against Fyvve's pirates; and he laughed internally when he saw the dead vulpine's cargo ship still moored off the coast.

Fox picked a spot of water to the left of the boat as his landing spot. The plane's landing floats touched down on the foamy breakers, and the long flight from Corneria came to an end. Slowing the plane, Fox used the front-mounted propeller to guide the plane closer to shore. He pulled forward until the landing floats dug into the sand and brought him to a complete stop.

He turned to Krystal and locked eyes with her. "Ready to get out?"

The blue vixen closed her eyes and breathed deeply. "Yes. I think so."

Opening the door to his left, Fox breathed in the salty ocean air and took off his shoes before dropping to the wet sand below him. He and Krystal wrestled their suitcases out of the back of the plane while the ocean breakers soaked their ankles. Oversized bags in hand, they walked across the beach and looked ahead. A vast, green field stretched out in front of them. Far in the distance, Fox could make out the hill that Falco had used as his camping spot during the skirmish with Fyvve's soldiers. He also recalled it being the same place where Scarlet announced her desire to break up with him.

A dense forest lined the right side of the field, but an ascending path cut its way through it and led to the island's main village. Fox remembered that much from his previous visit. As he and Krystal's bare feet left the sand and walked upon the grass, both of them heard frantic voices coming from the forest path. Both foxes stopped and stared at each other.

A moment later, Lilac jogged out of the forest and spotted the two. She recognized Fox in the blink of an eye, but the blue vixen standing to his left seemed alien to her. She moved closer to the two, focusing especially on the never-before-seen Cerinian wearing a loose, flowing blue gown that fluttered in the wind.

When she looked into Krystal's eyes and noticed her own features etched into the foreign vixen's muzzle, Lilac's eyes went wide. Shock and euphoria in her voice, she looked at Fox and blurted out, "Fox! You're back! Is this…? Is she…?"

Krystal took a deep breath and softened her eyes. "Yes, I'm Krystal."

Lilac gasped and charged forward, throwing her arms around Krystal and all but strangling her in affection. Quiet whimpers came from her mouth, and tears dripped from her eyes within seconds. Despite the younger vixen's crushing grip, Krystal held her gently in return and feathered her hair.

"I can't believe you actually came back!" Lilac sobbed. "Mother and Father have missed you so much!"

Sadness dripped from Krystal's words. "I know. I've been a bad vixen. I'm sorry this is the first time we've met."

Lilac sniffled. "It doesn't matter. We're just happy you're here."

When Lilac finally pulled away from her, Krystal looked up, only to see Neron and Hyacinth approaching with ten other armed Cerinians in tow. The appearance of the foreign airplane put them on high alert, and after Fyvve, they had to be sure another enemy had not arrived on the islands.

The two elder Cerinians stopped twenty feet away from Krystal and looked at their daughter. Krystal tried to meet her mother's natural orange eyes and her father's mechanical disks, but…

" _Wait—how did that happen? He was always blind!"_

Whether it was due to her shame or because her father's prosthetic eyes terrified her, her head refused to do anything other than droop. She stared at the grass under her feet, unable to stomach the disapproval of her mother and father.

Then, Hyacinth walked towards her. As with the first time Fox visited the islands, her sole attire amounted to a brown loincloth. Most Cerinians would have been condemned for a similar lack of clothing, but as a dominant clan wife, she possessed a level of autonomy and authority most of the natives could never dream of. Her power and ability to influence the decision-making processes on the islands struck fear into Krystal's heart. She knew her betrayal would be treated more harshly than it would have if she had been born into a family of nobodies, so to speak.

Krystal refused to make eye contact, too ashamed and afraid to look at her own mother. The tattooed, mostly furless vixen approached her daughter until she stood mere feet in front of her. Reaching out her hand, she cupped the underside of Krystal's muzzle and forced her to look into her fiery orange eyes that failed to pass onto her but later became a part of Lilac's DNA.

The stare only lasted two seconds before Hyacinth stepped forward and embraced Krystal. She cried tears of irrepressible joy as she held her long-lost daughter who had been brought home by the leader of the misfit team responsible for saving their islands. After Hyacinth finally pulled away with tears in her eyes, she zeroed in on Fox and hugged him as well. She whimpered words of gratitude in Cerinian; and even though Fox understood none of them, he somehow knew exactly what she meant to say.

Meanwhile, Krystal walked towards her father and tried not to look at his eyes. The yellow mechanical spheres horrified her and added another intimidating element to his already imposing, muscular frame. Ever the stoic, Neron stood in place and waited for Krystal to reach him.

Coming face to face with him, Krystal whispered "I'm sorry, Father" in her native tongue.

The older vulpine stared a hole through her with his synthetic eyes that betrayed no traces of emotion. Then, he placed his arms around her and held her against his chest. His gesture brought tears to her eyes. For as long as she could remember, he seldom held her in her younger years. Neron's stern persona translated to his interactions with his children and bestowed him with far more respect than adoration. For him to shower her with physical affection meant more to Krystal than it would have for most people. For the briefest moment, the hard shell of her father peeled away to reveal a relieved, loving parent.

Krystal stepped back, feeling both forgiven and loved by her long-lost family. With glassy eyes, she posed the question on her mind. "Father, what happened to your eyes?"

The elder fox answered. "There was a foreigner who came here some time ago. He built them for me before your friend—he pointed at Fox—took him and his daughter back to his homeland. It brings me such joy that I can finally see you, my beautiful daughter."

Overwhelmed by the amount of love and acceptance she had received, Krystal fell to her knees, held her head in her hands, and wept. Seconds later, a hand touched her shoulder. She opened her eyes and looked to her left, only to come face to face with Fox. "I told you they'd accept you again," he smiled.

Krystal stood up, prompting Fox to do the same. Without any warning, she threw her arms around him and held him tightly, whispering into his ear, "Thank you so much, Fox. Thank you for everything."

* * *

 _-_ § _-_

* * *

The late afternoon sun blazed overhead, but Fox and Krystal found refuge from its scorching rays by lying on the beach underneath the same protruding rock formation where Krystal and Lilac spoke for the first time over the phone. With the immediate area shadowed by the light beige rock overhead, the two foxes relaxed on a pair of beach towels. Fox wore a pair of white and red swim trunks, while Krystal modeled the same yellow bikini worn in her website's first promo picture. Fox admitted to himself that he enjoyed seeing it on her in person much more than in the picture.

Lilac rode the waves nearby, using the makeshift surfboard originally carved by her departed friend Violet. After taking an undignified fall and crashing into the pounding surf, she dragged her surfboard out of the ocean and dropped it on the beach. She shook out her fur, then walked up to Krystal and Fox and seated herself in front of them on the sand. Ever since Krystal's arrival two days ago, the young vixen rarely left her side. After all, she felt the need to make up for lost time with her. Fortunately for her, Krystal enjoyed her presence and did not find her annoying, even though she seemed oblivious to the idea of personal space.

" _She must've gotten that from my mother,"_ Krystal thought.

Crossing her legs in front of her, Lilac softened her expression and directed a question towards her sister. "Krystal—I'm terrified to ask you about this, but there's something I'd really, really like your help with."

Krystal's ears perked up. She looked at the younger vixen expectantly.

Lilac continued, "There's a boy here who I've started to like. He hasn't had a mate arranged for him yet, but I don't think Mother and Father have him in mind for me. They're going to make their decision soon, and I don't want to be stuck with someone I don't love. I can't see myself with anyone but him. Can you talk with Mother and Father about him? Please?"

Krystal returned a weak smile and sighed. "Lilac, I will absolutely do that for you."

The younger vixen's orange eyes seemed to sparkle. "Really?"

"I want you to be happy here," Krystal explained. "I left because I hated the sodding little man-child I was supposed to marry. You're far too precious to have to go through the same thing that I did."

Hearing this, Lilac's tense posture relaxed. She smiled at her older sister and turned around to lie down between her and Fox. The three lounged for another minute before Krystal looked at her and quietly asked, "Lilac, if you don't mind, can you let me and Fox have some time by ourselves?"

Traces of sadness appeared on Lilac's delicate muzzle, but she sat up and nodded. "I can do that. I guess I'll go back to the village and start helping make dinner. It'll be time to eat before too long."

Fox and Krystal watched as Lilac rose to her feet and trudged off, picking up her surfboard before she vanished from sight and walked back to the village. For a moment, Fox and Krystal simply lay next to each other on their respective beach towels, listening to the waves crashing against the beach and the rocks and the sound of seabirds chirping in the distance. With dreamy eyes, Krystal rolled onto her side and looked at Fox. The red vulpine tried his best not to ogle her, but her delicate yellow swimsuit and the way she wore it made such an undertaking all but impossible. He still marveled at the healing properties of the exotic Cerinian flowers responsible for allowing Krystal to look barely two years older than her sister. In fact, she looked younger than Fox did despite being slightly over five times his age.

Krystal spoke. "I know you must be tired of hearing me say this, but thank you. Thank you so unbelievably much for what you've done for me. I haven't felt this free in my entire life. It's almost as if I've been waiting a hundred fifty years just for this one moment; and it's all thanks to you, Fox."

Fox blushed, but he managed to keep a straight enough face to make a comment. "I get creeped out every time someone mentions your age."

"I understand," Krystal replied. "But hey…" she reached into the handbag next to her towel and pulled out a small wallet, which she opened to display her ID as a citizen of Eladard. "…My ID says I'm 22. It's official, so it can't be wrong."

Fox rolled his eyes, prompting Krystal to give him a playful slap on the shoulder. "Oh please—you know you'd do anything so you could live to be 400 and never look older than 50."

"I'm not sure, actually," said Fox.

Krystal cocked her head. "Interesting. Everyone else I've talked to was positively green with envy when I mentioned this."

"Well, look at it this way," Fox explained, "On the islands, nothing really changes. It's generally peaceful and pleasant. The rest of the world has gone through a hell of a lot more than this place has. If you live to be 400 outside the islands, you're going to see more wars, pandemics, natural disasters, and loved ones dying than most people can handle. If you live through enough bad times, you eventually become numb to them."

Krystal lowered her head. "It explains a lot, doesn't it?"

"Huh? What do you mean?"

"I didn't consider my actions enough when I drew up the plans for the East Fortunan revolt. I was so numb to what I was doing that I never considered how many people would suffer and die because of it," Krystal replied. "You have a point, Fox. I see why you think the way you do. I'll admit that I was going to try to find a way to give you some of the extract from the Flowers of Life as a reward for helping me, but now I suppose I'll have to do something else instead."

"Like what?" asked Fox.

Without answering, Krystal leaned towards Fox and planted a kiss on his cheek. While he touched his face in surprise, she turned her head away from him and looked at an invisible something, almost as if someone was watching her and Fox. With a faint smile on her lips, she winked and said,

"Fox y Krystal es el OTP."

* * *

 _AUTHOR'S NOTE(S):_

 _Thus ends the story. Part of me is truly astounded that I even managed to finish it. Perhaps it's somewhat obvious judging from how haphazard the earlier parts of the story are, but I originally intended_ Sierra Foxtrot _to be something that I could stop writing at any time. The sole purpose of it was to be fun and entertaining for me to write; and considering that I have never had this much fun writing anything else to date, I'd say it turned out decently._

 _So, to you, the reader who managed to slog through 300K words of an insanity-laced kudzu plot, I would like to extend my appreciation. Thank you for reading_ Sierra Foxtrot. _Obviously, it was never going to pick up the same kind of traffic as_ The Oasis _did_ , _but the amount of viewership it received surprised me nonetheless._

 _May the fark be with you._

* * *

 **\- THE END -  
**

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* * *

 _Or is it...?  
_


	55. Coda

**Coda**

Gray skies obscured the sun from view as a winter storm brewed overhead. At the high altitudes, the possibility of icy precipitation existed throughout most of the year, including now—two weeks after the final destruction and nuclear bombing of East Fortuna's command base. The rubble of hangars, tents, barracks, and the base's once-proud command tower stretched out for over half a mile.

Not a soul stirred. No birds chirped in the nearby forests, and no non-sapient animals roamed the concrete expanse. Even though the nuclear device Corneria unleashed upon the base was one of their smaller 'tactical' warheads, the resulting explosion still caused a nontrivial amount of fallout that damaged the local flora and fauna, irreparably in many cases. Perhaps that had been the goal—to leave a lasting mark on the area as a message stating, "This is what happens to you when you dare to challenge the Cornerian Army."

The only sound that filled the air belonged to the wind as it whistled through the dying trees surrounding the base.

As the minutes passed, the heavens opened, and a steady torrent of blackened, contaminated snow mixed with icy rain blanketed the base's concrete surface. The runoff from the precipitation trickled down a slight incline in the broken ground until it reached a large, subterranean crack composed of multiple sheets of shredded concrete.

Suddenly, one of the concrete plates moved.

A single hand emerged from the rubble and gripped the edge of the crack. A second hand appeared seconds later. With a wheezing cough, the owner of the two appendages shoved a piece of concrete out of the way and pulled itself out. The black rain and snow alighted on the frail figure, both burned and covered in hardened blood. It looked on the brink of death. After all, who could have been expected to survive the threefold Cornerian bombing of the base?

The solitary figure's clothing clung to its body in tattered shreds as the black rain and snow washed the dirt away with yet more dirt. Light brown mixed with black soot, dark red blood, and dark brown dirt coated the survivor's fur; but on its arms and face, traces of yellow stood out.

Coughing, the nuclear survivor took a defiant step on the cracked concrete ground. She came to a complete stop; then, with malice and determination in her eyes, she held her arm out in front of her and raised her middle finger to the cold, dark gray horizon.

"Fark you, nuclear winter—it's going to take more than that to kill me."


End file.
